


An Honest Man

by BlurglesmurfKlaine



Series: An Honest Man [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Additional Warnings in Author’s Note, Am I using these tags right?, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, Con Artists, Crime, Hummelberry shenanigans, M/M, a lot of Kurt angst, hes HELLA damaged, ridiculous situations, tragic backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20083996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlurglesmurfKlaine/pseuds/BlurglesmurfKlaine
Summary: For nearly the past decade, Kurt Hummel and his best friend Rachel Berry have made their living swindling unsuspecting bachelors. Which proves to be pretty easy on his conscience, considering he doesn’t believe in love anymore. As they always say: “You can’t con an honest man... Good thing they don’t exist.” But their mark for their last con before they go their separate ways—Blaine Anderson—may just prove otherwise, and restore Kurt’s faith in love in the process.Klaine Heartbreakers!AU, side Finchel, HummelBerry con artist duo





	1. Lisa and Kyle

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So uhhhhhh, there’s a lot of trigger warnings/reader warnings up in this messy bitch because she gets a bit ridiculous, so I’m just gonna list them all right now.
> 
> **Uh, fucking crime, for one  
*Unwanted advances/Non-consensual kissing  
*Infidelity  
*Wanted advances towards someone (technically) already in a relationship but without explicit consent  
**Alcohol consumption  
**Age difference (/technically/ (nobody's underage))  
*Inappropriate touching  
*Existential crisis  
*Thoughts that could be considered suicidal if you look too deep  
*Mention of minor character death  
*Minor character death  
*Gun use  
*Desecration of a dead body (TECHNICALLY)  
*Non-consensual intake of drugs
> 
> Just letting y’all know that none of these are supposed to be that serious or deep (well maybe like one but I digress) it’s just a story of ridiculous situations and uhhh yeah...
> 
> I’ll also repeat some of them before the chapters they appear in, the ones with two stars are pretty much throughout the entire story
> 
> I'll post at least once a week, with the exception of this coming week because my work/school schedule isn't set in stone and I wasn't going to post this until Saturday then update every Saturday (catch my drift???) so chapter two will be posted NEXT Saturday, and from then on they'll be posted weekly okay I'm going to shut up now...
> 
> Enjoy!!! I hope y'all have as much fun reading this as I do writing it :)
> 
> Warnings for Chapter 1:  
*Unwanted advances/Non-consensual kissing

Finn is giddily running down the hallway of the hotel, hand in hand with the love of his life.

He can’t believe it. He just got married. To a woman who loves him for his goofy, clumsy, small town self.

He’d met Lisa only six weeks ago, when she walked into his car shop, on her way home to California. Her car had broken down, but after talking his ear off while he fixed her car, she’d decided to stay for a few more days.

A few more days turned into a month, and before he knew it he was a married man.

He opens the door to their suite and pulls her in for a long kiss. “I’m gonna rock your world tonight, Mrs. Hudson.” She had wanted to wait until marriage to finally sleep with him, and he was completely fine with that. He loved her, and she was worth the wait... even if his pay-per-view on demand bill _was_ a little higher than usual.

She giggles as they walk back into the room and playfully pulls him down on to the bed. “I bet you are.” She bites her lip. “Did you bring protection?”

His stomach falls. He had wanted everything to be perfect for this night, but the one thing he didn’t think to bring was a fucking pack of condoms. The _one thing_ they needed. He tosses his head back in defeat. “I’ll be right back,” he breathes against her ear, then heads into the bathroom, immediately tearing it apart in hopes that the hotel would provide such an amenity.

It takes him about ten minutes, but he finally finds a complimentary two-pack, holding it up like it’s the damn holy grail.

“Aha!”

He struts out of the bathroom, ready to finally make sweet, _sweet_ love to the love of his life...

And is greeted with the sight of his new bride knocked out on the bed, still in her wedding dress.

He can’t help but throw his head back and groan. So much for consummating the marriage.

He loves her, but he thinks if his balls get any bluer, they’ll fall off.

* * *

The next day, Finn is sitting at his desk, going over some paperwork for location 32 of his tire shop chain when he hears his door creak open.

“Mr. Hudson?” A flute like voice calls out.

It’s Kyle, his assistant. Kyle has a huge crush on him, and he isn’t afraid to show it, even with his new wife around. Finn really should have let him go a long time ago, especially when he got engaged to Lisa. The nature of Kyle’s infatuation is beginning to verge in inappropriate.

But he really _was_ a great assistant—smart as a whip, made a lot of references Finn didn’t really understand, always on top of his reports, and never once screwed up his coffee order.

He gives him a tight smile, not wanting to encourage his advances. “What’s up, Kyle?”

The pale assistant timidly walks into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I was just taking a look at these reports,” he begins, walking up to his desk and leaning in towards Finn as he places the papers between them. “And I noticed some discrepancies on lots twelve and sixteen, thought I should check in with you.”

Finn looks over the papers briefly. “Oh, no, that’s completely normal. We have shortages every now and then when people forget to log their employee discount. The computer doesn’t log it, but they do on paper.”

Kyle smiles brightly at him. “You are _so_ smart, Finn.” He sighs, batting his eyes like a baby doe.

When Finn hands the papers back to him, their hands touch. Kyle sucks in a breath and a horror spreads throughout Finn as he realizes what Kyle thinks just happened.

It all goes down so incredibly fast.

Before Finn can even get a word out, Kyle tugs on his hand and brings their lips together, Finn tight and tense against the other man’s mouth. He feels Kyle reach down and begin to unbuckle his belt and pulls away, finally able to get a word in. “I don’t think—“

The paler man presses a finger against his lips, effectively shushing him. “I feel the exact same,” he says breathlessly.

He sinks to the floor, hands running down Finn’s side and taking his pants down with him. “Just relax,” he whispers.

But Finn _absolutely cannot relax _because what the hell is he supposed to do in this situation?

“Kyle—!”

They’re suddenly interrupted by the office door bursting open and a woman in her late twenties with long brown hair. “Honey, I was thinking about when we inevitably start a family, and I really feel strongly that our children should be brought up in the Jewish commun—“

She stops dead in her tracks when she sees them, Finn’s pants around his ankles and Kyle’s hands on his waist.

The two men whip their head around to face her.

“Lisa!” Finn cries, pushing the pale man aside and pulling his pants back up. “It’s not what it looks like! I know that’s what people always say when it’s exactly what it looks like, but I promise it’s not! I’m—“

She holds a hand up to silence him, eyes welling up with tears. “You could have just _told_ me you were gay... it would have hurt a lot less to find this out before I _married_ you!” Finn doesn’t see Kyle roll his eyes.

“That’s the thing, I’m not—!”

“Do you expect me to believe that when I just walked in on you and your male assistant in a compromising position together!?” Finn’s mouth is gaping open, unsure how to get himself out of this mess. “I _loved_ you, Finn Hudson!”

A tense silence hangs between them.

“You!” She throws a finger at Kyle. “Get out of here, I don’t ever want to see your face in this town again!”

Kyle nods fearfully and scrambles up, rushing out the door as fast as he can.

“And you...” She narrows her eyes at Finn and his heart shatters into a million pieces.

“Lisa, ple—“

“I think this goes without saying, but I want a divorce.”

The word hits him like a truck and sinks deep into his chest.

_Divorce_.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. He just found the love of his life, he can’t imagine losing her so soon—or _ever_ for that matter. He knows they got married on a whim after knowing each other for only six weeks, but _divorce_ is supposed to be a word reserved for bitter middle-aged couples who have constant affairs and keep bank accounts hidden from each other, not for a couple of twenty-eight year olds who found love against all odds, _Livin’ On A Prayer_ style.

She storms out of the room, Finn tailing right behind her. “Don’t go,” he pleads, grabbing her wrist.

Without warning, she whirls around and sprays him in the eyes with a substance that makes them burn.

He screams out. “Oh my god! Is-is that _pepper spray?_”

“Yeah, reserved for heartbreakers like you!”

He’s helpless as she walks away,

He can’t remember the last time he cried, but now tears are spilling from his eyes with a ferocity that rivals his mom’s when he graduated.

He tells himself it’s the pepper spray.

* * *

Two weeks.

That’s all it takes for the lawyers to finish marking up the final drafts of the divorce papers and set up a meeting between Finn and Lisa.

He can’t even look her in the eyes when it comes time for mediation.

“She can have it all.” He mumbles.

His legal council immediately tries to get him to backtrack on that, but he doesn’t listen to them. He doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.

None of it matters.

* * *

Kurt waits patiently at the abandoned gas station, passing time by staring up into the clouds and seeing what shapes he can make them out to be.

He thinks he might see a duck in one, a shoe in another...

But in that moment, looking up at the limitless sky, all he can really see is the possibility of a new life.

Rachel hadn’t taken it very well when Kurt finally voiced his thoughts on them going their separate ways. He loves that girl to death, he really does—she‘s simultaneously the sister he never had and the mother he once knew—but Rachel’s afraid to try anything bigger and Kurt is exhausted with playing small town losers.

She wasn’t always so cautious, and Kurt knows she’s got her reasons for being so, but he’s ready to move on to greener pastures, with or without her.

Aside from that, there comes a time in every artist’s life that you have to stop playing dress up with your high school best friend. Kurt gets that it’s just time to grow up...

The routine is getting old, anyways. It’s always the same.

Step one: Kurt and Rachel decide on a mark—usually someone relatively successful, but not so successful that they’ll attract too much attention in their pursuit.

Step two: Rachel (maybe it’s the performer in him, but Kurt resents that’s it’s always, _always_ Rachel) gets their mark to fall deeply and madly in love with her, usually getting them to marry her within two months. Her record is three weeks, and she never lets Kurt forget it.

Step three: While Rachel is busy persisting that she and her mark wait until marriage to have sex, Kurt gets close to him, either emotionally or physically, then makes his move on a decided time and date where Rachel walks in on them (thankfully before Kurt actually has to _do_ anything). It had been surprising, at first, how many men are willing to jump at the chance for some sexual relief. Now, it’s just exhausting.

Step four: The mixture of guilt and humiliation makes their mark particularly giving, so they keep the ring, and half of everything the poor sucker owns.

Step five: Meet up in a discreet location and split the profits.

As of on cue, a car pulls into the empty lot, car tires crunching on the dry gravel.

“Is there anyone more generous than an utterly humiliated man?” Rachel asks, stepping out of the car.

Kurt leans up against his car and slow claps as she makes her way towards him, manilla envelope in her hands.

“I have to say,” he begins, smirking. “That was certainly one of your more captivating performances, _Lisa_.” He rolls her alias off his tongue teasingly.

With a dramatic flourish, she gives a bow. “Why, thank you! I couldn’t have done it without my extremely and equally talented co-star who played the role of Kyle oh so enthusiastically.”

“The waterworks really were a nice touch.”

She shrugs, feigning a humility Kurt knows she doesn’t possess. “What can I say, I’m a natural actress.” She hands the envelope to him and they both feel the banter whisk away with the wind. “Your cut.”

He smiles bittersweetly and pulls her in for a hug before even touching the envelope. “I’m really gonna miss you, Rach.”

She pulls away, biting her bottom lip. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

Kurt looks at her with equal parts love and condescension. “I love you, but we can’t keep playing Gay Bonnie and Jewish Clyde for the rest of our lives.”

“Wait a second, I’m _Clyde?_”

“Of course you are, keep up, Berry.” He dismisses her with a wave of his hands but sends her a playful smile her way as he continues. “Besides, it’s tiring constantly playing the Predatory Gay, trademark patent pending.”

She giggles. “Takes me back to sophomore year and your wildly inappropriate crush on my would-be fiancé.”

“Yeah, well, Jesse was the only one talented enough to be worthy of my affections, even if he did turn out to be the world’s biggest dickwad.”

Rachel masks her pain with a smile, and Kurt knows that even after nearly a decade, what Jesse did still feels like a fresh cut to her. She’s the type of girl who loves too strongly, too intensely, and wants things too badly. So she doesn’t let herself do any of those things anymore.

Rachel and Jesse had been High School sweethearts, two sides of the same coin. So it never really came as a surprise when he proposed their senior year of high school—or when she happily accepted. What _had_ come as a surprise was both of them absolutely blowing their NYADA auditions.

Between the two of them, there was enough determination and persistence to power the world, and even Carmen Tibideux wasn’t immune to it. So she showed up to their Nationals performance where Rachel and Jesse sang a compelling duet—a second chance at their shared dream.

When those NYADA letters came in, Kurt and Rachel had been absolutely crushed by their rejection. Remarkably, Jesse had gotten in, but assured Rachel time and time again that he would happily defer for a year so they could get married and move to New York together once she reapplied.

Nobody had expected him to change his mind on the day of their wedding.

In the end, all he left behind was a halfhearted note and a broken girl for Kurt to put back together.

After that day, Kurt knew she’d never be the same.

“Yeah, well, men are trash. We know that now.” She finally huffs.

“Should’ve known it sooner...”

A heavy silence settles between them and Kurt has to try really hard to keep his own wounds from reopening. It’s not something he lets himself think about... _ever_.

“Look, we can stand here and play the game of who’s fiancé was worse—a game we already know you’d win—“ he winces at the grim reminder. “or... we could discuss the possibility of one last job together...”

He heaves. “No.” He says firmly. She pouts and looks up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “I said no, Rachel. You said the exact same thing about the past three cons, but I’m serious this time. This was our last hurrah.” He gives her a sideways glance. “Unless you’re finally open to the idea of me being the lead.”

“We’ve been through this, Kurt; the one thing every typical straight man is afraid of is—“

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, cutting her off. “I know, I know, being seen as a homosexual, what a horror.”

“Face it,” she shrugs, “you _need_ me, Kurt. I know you’ve got some fantastic fresh ideas, but the ones we use pay off and pay well. That’s a fact... but I get where you’re coming from... which is why—“ she fishes in her coat pocket for a moment before pulling out a brochure with a lavish mansion on the cover and passes it to Kurt. “I thought of this.”

_Your Summer Guide to The Hamptons_

He cocks an eyebrow. “The Hamptons?”

“You know how I feel about attracting too much attention to ourselves,” she begins. “But this is just to prove to you that I really mean it this time. One last con. Go out with a bang.”

He looks at her incredulously. “I don’t know, this parting of ways is already long overdue.”

“What about Kurt and Rachel VS The World?” She all but pouts at him.

“Our semi-autobiographical musical parody of the Scott Pilgrim novels...” he murmurs wistfully, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Exactly!” She grins, realizing she may actually be winning him over. “One last play like this and we’ll have enough to produce and fund a project like that! Or anything else for that matter... we’ll be set for life, Kurt.”

He sighs, knowing that he just can’t budge on this. “I’m sorry, Rachel... but no.”

The way the smile falls from her face nearly kills him. She blinks back tears and smiles sadly. “Alright... fine...” she resigns. “But will you at least come with me to the bank to drop this off?”

He pulls her into a hug. “Of course.”


	2. Trouble In Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don’t own Ocean’s 8 or Thor Ragnarok lol
> 
> There was something I wanted to say here... but I forgot...
> 
> I REMEMBERED!
> 
> This plot is loosely based off of Heartbreakers (2001). I kept some of the major plot points the same but changed up some other stuff so yeah just an fyi bc I forgot to mention that in the summary!

“What do you mean its all gone?” Kurt asks, panicked.

The bank teller shakes her head and shrugs. “Your account’s been drained. It says they had level three authorization so it could have been a government agency. I’m sorry, Mr. Lincoln.”

Fuck. He turns around and heads to the common area, where Rachel is there to meet him. “Any luck with you?” He pleads. He doesn’t believe in god, but now’s a good a time as any if the Heavenly Father suddenly wants to make a faith instilling miracle.

She shakes her head fervently. “Kurt!” She whispers frantically. “This is the third bank account we’ve checked today... If our last one doesn’t have any money in it, we’re screwed!”

Over the years, they’d acquired eight bank accounts—four in Rachel’s name, four in Kurt’s. However, they both shared equal access to both. Splitting their earnings up like so was just a precaution to avoid two things: suspicion and taxes, both of which are about to catch up to them.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he says worriedly.

“I think I could shed some light on the situation,” a disembodied voice says from behind them.

They turn around and are met with a man who definitely falls under the category of Tall, Dark, and Handsome. He’s got a chiseled jaw and muted green eyes.

“Rachel Berry? Kurt Hummel?” He asks, but it’s more of a confirmation than a question.

They both freeze, Kurt’s face blanching far past what he formerly thought possible.

Neither of them have used their real names in years, so the fact that a complete stranger knows them means trouble. _Big_ trouble. Kurt’s acting instincts suddenly take over and he grabs Rachel’s shoulder, pointing her off in the opposite direction. “Sorry,” he starts, ushering her quickly away. “You must have us confused with someone else.”

The tall and dark man grabs Rachel by the wrist, holding them both back. “My apologies,” he grunts, without a single inkling of sorrow in his voice. “Do you go by Lisa Donaldson now?” He snaps his heads towards Kurt. “Or Kyle Mathers? How about Lucy Wynn, Matthew Cooper, Barbara Orin, George Franklin?”

Kurt feels his head go dizzy with alarm as this complete stranger lists off nearly every alias they’ve used over the past few years. _Shit, shit, shit! How can this be happening? We were so careful..._

“Surprised?” He asks, as if reading Kurt’s thoughts. “Don’t be. The IRS always finds a way... Agent Brody.” he quickly flashes a badge at them. “You two owe the government a lot of money.”

_Fuck. The IRS?_

He grabs them both by the shoulders and leads them down an empty hallway while they both let out little yelps of protest.

“How did you find us?” Rachel snarls, yanking her arm out of the agent’s grasp.

“The US government always finds ways to get their money.”

“How... how much do we owe..?” Kurt asks cautiously.

“More than you can afford at the moment.” He lets out a belittling laugh. “You can’t expect not to rack up a few fees when you’ve been living off of stolen money for nine years. I’m afraid the only thing you two will be seeing is the inside of a jail cell for a long, long time.”

He and Rachel stiffen. 

This is it. This is the end of the line. They’ve been caught. They’re going to _jail_. The only thing Kurt can think of that’d be worse than that is going back to high school.

Agent Brody clears his throat and looks around quickly. “But, Uh... for the right price...” he raises an eyebrow at them. “I can make that number go down... edit a few documents here, misplace a few files here... It’ll keep you out of jail long enough to find a way to pay the rest of those fees.”

Kurt’s stomach drops. He’s in trouble with the IRS and the person they send to deal with them is a crooked agent—he’s not sure if he should be grateful or terrified. Probably both. “How much do you want?” He asks, not wanting to beat around the bush any further.

Brody shrugs, eyeing the bank tellers. “How much do you have left?”

* * *

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Rachel.” Kurt screeches, pacing back and forth in the empty parking lot.

She’s leaning back against the hood of their car, arms crossed. “I know, I cant bel—“

“What are we gonna do!?” Kurt asks frantically. “That was everything we own, Rachel.” She opens her mouth to speak but he cuts her off again. “_Everything!_ Every con for the past ten years _gone!_ Just like that. And he’ll probably come back for more because we just _gave_ it to him like idiots!”

“We’re not—“

“We should have been smart enough to get ourselves out of this, we always find a way out, we always do... what is wrong with us!?”

She stares at him when he finally finishes, impatiently tapping her shoe. “Are you done?” She asks, an eyebrow raised.

He releases a breath. “Yeah... I’m done. And so are you... we’re still completely broke...” He tosses a hand and a bewildered glance in her direction. “How are you not freaking out? I’m having a bit of trouble processing how Rachel Berry—who panics at a change in the weather report—is managing to keep her composure right now.”

She just shrugs. “We’ll be okay. We always are. Besides, we’ve still got our stash in the car,” she calmly reminds him.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Provided we forgo showers and electricity, assuming we even find a permanent place to live considering we haven’t stopped being mobile since 2013, if our credit is good enough, etc... that’ll get us through, what? Four months? _If_ we move back to Lima?”

She raises her eyebrows and pulls out the familiar Hamptons brochure from her pocket once more. “Or four weeks in the Hamptons.”

“Four weeks?” He questions skeptically. Rachel’s good, but he’s not sure she’s _getting someone who lives in the Hamptons to propose in under four week_s good. “That’s cutting it close...”

The same intensity and fire in her eyes she always had whenever they’d compete for a solo flashes across her eyes. “I can do it. I know I can.”

He stares at the paper in her hands for a moment, realizing that one last con with Rachel really is his last resort. And certainly better than the alternative. His life may not be perfect, but he’ll be damned if he ever goes back to Lima, not when there’s nothing left for him there.

“Fine...” he finally caves. “Last one. Hamptons, pay the rest of the IRS fees, and then we’re done.”

* * *

“So, who’s our mark?” Kurt asks.

Rachel looks over at him from the driver’s seat. “Hm?”

“Our mark? For the Hamptons?” He repeats.

“Oh!” She reaches towards the backseat and pulls out her laptop. When she opens it there’s an image of a sharply dressed man, probably around their age, with curly hair that’s been slightly slicked back with gel. He’s holding a champagne flute and smiling widely with warm hazel eyes at a blond man with an unusually large mouth and an Asian girl with a forgettable face.

“He’s cute...” Kurt admits. “But then again, they always are.”

“This,” Rachel starts. “Is Blaine Anderson. Private school since the age of four, practically grew up in the Hamptons, when he wasn’t living in SoHo or Upstate New York...” She pauses suspiciously before continuing. “Graduated from NYADA...” Kurt’s head whips up at her in response to this revelation. “Top of his class.”

“Why him?” Kurt pries.

“Well, his parents owned a franchise you and I know as Callbacks. And he recently inherited the entire empire.”

Kurt’s eyes bug out of his head. “Shut up! Callbacks is _the_ biggest chain karaoke bar across the nation, and there’s even been talk of expanding it across seas.”

“Exactly!” She squeals. “And in a recent interview, he admitted that as he gets older all he wants is to find “The One” and get that ring on his finger.”

“Wait a second, a rich bachelor who wants to get married ASAP?” Kurt questions.

Rachel only gives him a sly grin in response as she passes him the laptop and throws the car into drive. “It couldn’t be more perfect.”

* * *

To say the hotel is huge is an understatement. The lobby alone is bigger and more ornate than anything Kurt’s ever seen, with its ceiling that’s reminiscent of a baroque cathedral. Cherubs and various other biblical and mythological idols dance around the glass skylight that illuminates the lobby.

There’s a balcony in the middle of the room with staircases on either side and an elevator smack in the middle.

“How the hell are we gonna afford this place?” Rachel whispers into Kurt’s ear. “Our stash can only cover us for so long.”

He just smirks and plops down on a couch in the waiting area. “I’ve got a plan.”

They wait patiently on the couch by the hotel clerk’s desk, waiting for the perfect couple to check out.

Finally, he catches a conversation between the clerk and a couple—a pretty blonde woman and a muscular man in an Air Force uniform.

“All set, Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman?” The concierge asks.

“Yes, we are, Grace.” the man replies. “We had a great time here, even though it’s not exactly my scene.” He admits, then looks at his wife. “Anything for her, though.”

The clerk smiles at them as Mr. Puckerman hands her back a key. “You two make a lovely couple. Have a safe flight back!”

She waves them goodbye as they head out the door.

Kurt waits a good fifteen minutes before making his move. He pulls out his phone and dials the hotel’s concierge number. It rings twice before she picks up.

“Bayview Resort, how can I help you today?”

“Hi, Grace,” he begins, never more grateful for his feminine voice. “It’s Mrs. Puckerman, you checked my husband and I out a few minutes ago?”

“Of course!”

He sighs with lament. “Our flight just got cancelled and we can’t find any other flights leaving today, and rather than getting a sketchy airport motel, we were wondering if we could have our old room back.”

He hears her typing away on her keyboard. “Of course,” She finally answers. “Take as many days as you need.”

“Thank you, Grace. You’re an angel. Oh,” he adds. “Is it alright if I send my brother to go pick it up? My husband and I were planning to have dinner before we came back.”

“Sure thing!”

“Wonderful, his name is Chris Greer.”

“I’ll make sure he gets that,” she says.

“Thank you, Grace. Have a wonderful day.”

“You, too, Mrs. Puckerman.”

Another fifteen minutes later, and they’ve got the key to a room at one of the classiest hotels in all of New York.

“There,” he says, slapping the key into Rachel’s hand. “That should buy us some time.”

“You’re a goddamn genius, Hummel.”

He smirks at her, lacing his arms through hers. “I know, but the reminder’s always nice.”

He takes one last glance around the grandeur lobby and his eyes nearly fall right out of his head when he looks up at the balcony in front of them.

It’s Blaine Anderson. Their fucking mark, in the very hotel they’re staying at. What are the odds?

He’s talking to a group of smart looking and sharply dressed people with briefcases and shaking their hands. It seems like they just got out of a meeting of some sort.

Kurt tugs on Rachel’s sleeve. “Rachel,” he hisses.

She looks at him and he discreetly points upwards, earning a gasp from her when she finally sees him. “This is perfect.” She breathes, immediately dragging Kurt towards the open doors of the elevator. “We should do Get Help.”

He yanks his hand out of hers when they finally get in the elevator. “We are not doing Get Help.”

“Why not?”

She leans forward and presses the button to the indoor balcony at the top of the staircase.

“Because it’s embarrassing!”

The elevator lurches upwards.

“It’s a classic! And if I do recall, it’s one of _your_ ideas.”

“Not the way you do it.”

“Come on, Kurt! If we’re gonna get this guy to fall in love with me, we need to let him feel like a hero.”

“Then _you_ be the damsel in distress.”

The elevator creaks and comes to a halt.

“You know we don’t kiss our marks until week two, leave them wanting more!”

“_No_.”

_Ding!_

The elevator doors open and Rachel comes barreling out, dragging a seemingly unconscious Kurt.

“Oh my god, help! Please, somebody get help!” She cries, laying him down in the middle of the clearing. “Anybody!”

An older man gently places a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “I can help,” he says, loud enough for only her to hear. “I’m a doctor.”

She grimaces at him. “Ew, no, not you,” she mutters quietly, and waves him away, much to the poor old man’s confusion. His confusion only grows when she continues to cry out for help. “Please, somebody, anybody!”

Fucking millennials.

Kurt’s eyes are still shut, so all he can do is listen to the voices around him and try to make some sense of the situation. He finally hears some frantic shuffling and an unfamiliar voice head towards them.

“Excuse me, miss? Is everything okay?”

Rachel warrants that with a response, so Kurt figures it must be Blaine. “Oh thank god! My brother here was in the elevator and he passed out. I don’t think he’s breathing.”

Kurt holds his breath so he doesn’t blow their cover as he feels someone press their head against his chest. A warm feeling ignites in the center of his chest, spreading out from the source of contact and he silently scolds himself. God, is he really so touch starved that the presence of a complete stranger makes him feel this jittery? The human sex drive can be such a bitch.

“I hear a heartbeat, but you’re right. He’s not breathing.” He hears her melodramatic gasp and has to resist the urge to roll his eyes into oblivion. “It’s okay, I know CPR.”

Even though he knows it’s coming and he braces himself for it, nothing could have prepared Kurt for the feeling of Blaine pressing his lips to his own. He sucks in a minuscule breath, but quickly catches it as to not expose himself.

Blaine’s air fills his lungs and he knows it’s not technically a kiss, but if it were... _damn_. This Anderson guy really knows what the hell he’s doing.

Kurt lifts his head slightly and presses further against Blaine’s lips, practically instinctively, he tells himself. He feels himself getting carried away and opening his mouth, wanting nothing more than for Blaine to push his tongue past his own lips.

Blaine lifts his head away from him and he’s brought back to reality. “He’s breathing!” Kurt opens his eyes, only to be met with the dreamiest hazel ones he’s ever seen. “Are you okay?” He asks.

All he can do is stare in response.

He’s never experienced _anything_ like that, which is saying something considering he almost got married nine years ago. But he shakes the ludicrous thought from his head. He’s been admittedly lonely and is going through a bit of a sexual dry-spell. Obviously, he was just reacting... his _body_ was just reacting. He really needs to get laid soon, that’s all.

Rachel’s voice brings him back to earth.

“Oh, my god. Thank you!” She rushes towards Blaine and throws her arms around him. “I’m seriously resisting the urge to just swoon “my hero!” Louis Lane style.” She smiles timidly at him and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I _could_ buy you a drink later tonight. As a thank you.”

“I...” Blaine looks between the two of them, both hanging onto his every word. This is the moment that will make or break this con. “Don’t think that’s a very god idea.”

Kurt sees Rachel’s face fall. _Uh-oh._

She’s never been turned down before, and Kurt doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of _that_, so he effortlessly forces a natural sounding laugh and places a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, surprised at how innate the gesture feels. Something not quite as natural is the pins and needles he can feel on his fingertips.

“Sure it is!” He exclaims, not quite catching the way Blaine’s eyes light up at him. “It’s the least she can do.” He smiles up at him, feeling Blaine’s eyes flicker across his body a little too quickly. “Just a thank you, you know. For saving her favorite brother’s life.”

Blaine smiles back at him. “I suppose one drink couldn’t hurt.”

_Hook, line, and sinker._

“Will you be joining us?” Blaine asks, glimmers of hope in his eyes.

Kurt laughs, completely missing said glimmers. “Oh, of course not. I couldn’t impose. I have plans with some old friends anyways.” The lie rolls right off his tongue with a practiced ease.

The hazel-eyed man seems to deflate almost imperceptibly. “Oh, okay... just me and—“ he cuts himself off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your names.”

Rachel extends a hand to him. “Megan Roland.” He shakes her hand politely.

“Blaine Anderson,” he introduces himself, completely unaware that they already knew that—along with many other details of his life. He turns to Kurt. “And you are..?”

“Chris. Chris Greer.”

His smile brightens up the room as he takes Kurt’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Rachel looks between the two of them nervously, noticing that Kurt hasn’t let go of their mark’s hand even long after what is a socially appropriate time period. She purses her lips and claps her hands together. “Alright!” She places her hands on Kurt’s shoulders. “Thank you, so much, Blaine. We have to go unpack now, but I’ll see you tonight.”

He smiles, completely ignoring her and still staring at Kurt. “Looking forward to it.”

Kurt smiles back. To be polite. And keep up the facade. Of course.

As they leave the scene, Kurt can feel Rachel sneaking suspicious glances at him every other second or so.

“What?” He finally asks begrudgingly, placing emphasis on the aspirate consonant at the end.

“Nothing!” She throws her hands up in mock surrender. “You just... _really_ went in for that kiss.”

“It wasn’t a kiss.” He defends himself. “Besides, he’s hot and I haven’t gotten laid in months. Believe me, you’d do the same if we did Get Help the way I originally planned it.”

She throws her head back in laughter. “Just don’t go falling in love with our get out of jail free card.”

He simply rolls his eyes. “Like _that_ would ever happen.”

* * *

Kurt sits on the bed, tediously flipping through the channels while Rachel leans on the nightstand with one arm and struggles to hoist on her second heel with the other.

“I should be back around ten, ten-thirty, if all goes well.”

“It will,” he replies through a mouthful of trail mix. “It always does.”

“Practice makes perfect,” she says, heels clicking on the marble floor as she heads towards the door.

Kurt nods in agreement as he flips the channel one last time. His heart sinks when he sees the screen and he can feel Rachel stop in her tracks when she hears the dialogue.

_“If people fell in love based on their similarities, then the two of you would be a couple.”_

He shuts this eyes.

_Fuck_ this movie. Fuck this channel for showing it. Fuck this Hampton fancy ass hotel for even carrying a channel that would even show a movie as utterly _garbage_ as Something Borrowed—

“Kurt?” Rachel’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he opens his eyes, blinking back tears. “I don’t have to go right now... he can wait one night.” she says, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He quickly shakes his head and changes the channel. A rerun of Friends. The one with the sandwich. “You should go.” He looks up at her and forces a taught smile. “Have fun, I know you love to get your acting kicks in.”

“I really don’t have—“

“Rachel... just go. Please.”

She nods, understanding the words he won’t say: _I don’t want you to see the mess I’m about to become._

She heads out the door.

As soon as he hears the door shut behind her, Kurt flips the channel back to Something Borrowed, telling himself it’s cathartic even though it’s really not.

All it does is resurface an anger and hurt he thought he buried a long time ago. He doesn’t know why he does this, maybe because bringing back these emotions reminds him that he’s still human—that he can still actually feel.

_“The idea of life without him is not only unbearable... it’s unimaginable.”_

Fuck this, he needs a drink.

He hops out of the bed and heads to the mini bar, taking every tiny bottle from it and mixing into one glass.

Thirty minutes later and he’s at the point he always gets to when he gets drunk too fast. It’s the point where calling that number that won’t answer seems like the most brilliant idea on earth.

He pulls out his phone and scrolls to the contacts, about to push the call button when he stops himself. He knows there won’t be an answer... but he has to try, so instead he sends a text. Or a hundred.

**To: Sebastian:  
** **Hey.**

**Hi.**

**Fuck**

**What the fuck am I supposed to even say?**

**It’s Kurt, by the way.**

**Just letting you know...**

**That I still hope you burn in Hell for what you did. For not having the courage to face me. For abandoning me like that.**

**I thought you loved me.**

**I’ll never forgive you.**

He waits patiently and silently, phone hidden in his folded hands for several minutes.

Miraculously, there’s a response.

**Verizon Automated Message:  
** **Automated message code 1267: The number you have contacted is no longer in service. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you for choosing Verizon!**

**Standard data and messaging rates apply.**

He lets out a frustrated scream and hurls the phone against the tv. It just bounces pathetically right off of Kate Hudson’s smiling face. Some shattering glass would have been almost therapeutic, but the universe can’t even grant him that.

He sinks to the floor to hug his knees, bow his head, and just let himself cry. Now‘s as good a time as any since Rachel is out.

He hates him. He hates that he ever let anybody close enough to hurt him. He hates that a mistake like the one Sebastian made literally changed his life and completely ruined it forever. He can’t believe he ever loved—not loved, he reminds himself... he _thought_ he loved someone like that.

At Dalton, the few months he was there, they’d read The Great Gatsby together. Sebastian was smart, but the book just never resonated with him the way it did with Kurt. He can barely remember the plot, but he remembers sitting in the common room couch with Sebastian after knowing him for only a few weeks.

“It’s just so _boring_,” he had complained. “I don’t get how you’re reading so fast.”

Kurt was chapters ahead of him and the assigned timeline. “I’m in love with the way Fitzgerald writes. He manages to convey emotions without ever outright saying them. It’s genius. Listen to this: _The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly_. That’s hopelessness, grief, and abandonment all rolled into one. It’s terrible and beautiful, all at once.”

When Kurt had finally put the book down to gauge his friend’s reaction, Sebastian immediately grabbed his face and pressed their lips together—their first kiss.

Looking back, it seems like an omen, because Kurt had felt pretty damn lonely the night Sebastian didn’t come home.

Nothing can be done about it now.

So he sighs, wipes the memory from his eyes, and trudges over to pick up the pieces, just like he always does.

* * *

Rachel heads into the lobby and sees Blaine Anderson sitting at a table by the bar. A smirk smears itself across her face as she takes a moment to get into her character. She slowly struts her way over to him.

“Well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armor.”

Blaine turns his head to face her, then follows her with his gaze as she sits across from him. He gives her a polite smile and Rachel’s confidence wavers for a moment. Usually that line has them a little more flattered than that.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I was just being a Good Samaritan. How’s your brother?”

“Oh he’s fine,” Rachel waves a dismissive hand. She bats her eyes at him and he would laugh at how cartoonish they seem if it weren’t so rude. “Thanks to you.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help him? Does he need a specialist or something? Why did he pass out like that? Is he okay?”

This guy sure does ask a lot of questions. “No, we’re fine.” She starts. “He just... has low iron.”

“Then why couldn’t he breathe?”

_Oh screw this._

She widens her eyes and sticks her bottom lip out just slightly. “Maybe a good looking guy like you just took his breath away.”

“Ah, listen, Megan...” he starts, a tight laugh squeezing its way from his throat. “I’m flattered, I really am. But I’m not interested.”

_Shit_. She thinks. _Shit, shit, shit_. This has never happened before. No guy has ever turned her down so abruptly.

“You don’t have to be afraid of your feelings for me,” she coos, keeping her composed facade up.

“You’re just... not really my type.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

She runs her foot over his underneath the table and leans forward seductively. “I could be...” She whispers.

He laughs uncomfortably one last time. “Not unless you go from Megan to Matthew.”

“Huh?” It takes her a second, then realization dawns on her like a bucket slowly overflowing and she freezes. She suddenly retracts her foot from his. “Oh!”

“Yeah...”

She quickly scrambles to pick up her things. “Oh, my god. I’ve made a huge mistake, I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing I thought you were interested in me!”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He chuckles, wondering how gawking at her brother gave her the impression he was interested in her.

She gets up to leave.

“Wait!” He cries out. Rachel whirls around. “Before you go... your brother... is he single, by any chance?”

She shoots him a glare. _No._ Nobody is getting to Kurt. She’s not going to even let anybody have the opportunity to completely break him. Not again.

“He’s not gay,” is all she leaves him with before turning back around and storming off into the elevator.

* * *

When Kurt’s eyes finally flutter open the next morning, they’re greeted with the sight of a wide-eyed Rachel, two inches from his face.

“He’s gay.”

He gives a little yelp, startled by her presence.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, pulling the covers over his head. “Yeah,” he groans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “We’ve known each other since we were sixteen, you should’ve known that by now.”

“Not you, Anderson!”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “What?” He throws the blanket off of himself and stands up.

“So the con’s not gonna work,” Rachel says at the same time Kurt mumbles out:

“This is perfect.”

“What?” They question in unison.

Rachel goes first. “The con won’t work now.” She says, as of it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s physically incapable of falling in love with me. We have to find a different mark.”

Kurt looks at her, baffled. “I would think you’d recognize the perfect opportunity to let me be the lead on this one play.”

He seethes when she barks out a laugh. Her face loses any trace of amusement when he doesn’t confirm that he’s joking. “Oh, you’re serious?”

He huffs. “Yes I’m serious.”

She shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”

He laughs in disbelief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were my mother. I was under the impression that she’s been dead for twenty years!”

She glares daggers at him as he steps up to her. “Oh no,” she starts. “You don’t get to play the Dead Parents card. Not during truth time.”

“I’m not playing the Dead Parents card, I’m playing the My Best Friend Is A Self-Centered _Bitch_ card!”

She draws in a long gasp. “You take that back!”

He throws her a sarcastically surprised glare. “I can’t, it’s truth time.”

“Fine,” she spits. “You want truth time? You can’t pull it off.”

“Yeah, hard to believe anybody could love me.” He scoffs at the audacity of her implication.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” she points a finger at him. “What we have works, Kurt. I am _not_ going to let you go and screw it up!”

He blinks at her.

“Screw you.” He finally says. “For the past decade I have dedicated everything to these cons. Making an idiot of myself, making you look good.” He picks up his wallet and keys and stomps towards the door. “Which, by the way, you make very difficult!” She drops her jaw at his remark. “Have fun finding a new mark all on your own, Rachel Berry. I don’t fucking need you.”

He storms out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

He’ll show her. He doesn’t need her, he learned that a long time ago.

He doesn’t need anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i got a few comments on the first chapter that were like "I've never seen anything like this" which just made me so happy?? because I've never written anything like this, either. I know the tone is a little... different? but I promise I'm doing my best to make it work and still enjoyable!
> 
> thank you so much for reading and reviewing!!!


	3. Lying Is Easy

Lying is easy. Being a _good_ liar is not. It’s an art that’s taken Kurt years to perfect. Tell someone too much, it’s obvious you’re overcompensating. Tell them too little, they’re going to keep prying. The trick is to tell whoever you’re lying to _just_ enough to appease them.

Kurt also always has a backstory planned—answers to questions anyone might ask based on what he tells them, just in case. If he tells someone he has a cat, he knows what kind, where he got it from, how long he’s had him, and what its name is... even if no one asks.

He’s always prepared.

In line with said preparedness, he does a thorough google search of Blaine Anderson. He finds a lot, some of what Rachel (his gut writhes in anger at just the thought of her and her egocentricity) has already told him, like him graduating from NYADA. Some of it, though, he had to dig for. Like how he works at a karaoke bar called Heartsongs... Why he bartends there when he already owns a national franchise of a different brand is beyond Kurt. It’s probably some rich douche way of “keeping himself humble”, some bullshit like that.

As soon as he leaves the hotel, he calls Heartsongs, pretending to be an interested tourist who had gone the night before (“Oh my wife and I just loved it there. The bartender was fantastic, too! Really down to earth guy, will he be there again tonight?”) and manages to find out that Blaine’s shift starts at eight-thirty.

He enters the address into his GPS and finds that Heartsongs is right along the shoreline, only accessible by one road. It’s an inevitability that Blaine will pass through it on his way to work.

As much as he hates Rachel in that moment, he has to admit that she‘s right about one thing—men love to play the hero.

Which is why he‘s leaning up against the side of his car on the aforementioned road, hazards blinking in the quickly fading light of the setting sun.

Earlier, after he had pulled off to the side of the road, he’d popped the hood of his car and unplugged one side of the ignition cable. He couldn’t help but crack a smile and silently thanked his father—wherever he may be—for teaching him everything he knew about cars.

Finally, a navy blue Nissan Sentra curving its way down the winding road comes into view. He has to wait until it‘s close enough to confirm that the driver is in fact Blaine before stepping out into the middle of the road and wildly waving his arms around.

He hears the tires squeal, but realizes that he may have waited too long and the car probably won’t be able to stop in time.

“Shit,” he mumbles. He backtracks for a few steps, about to move off the road when he stumbles on his own feet and falls backwards.

There have been many times Kurt thought he would die: most of them in high school when Karofsky was shoving him against the lockers (boy did that situation turn out crazier than he could’ve imagined). Once when Sebastian left...

But never did he imagine that his death would be caused by his own uncoordinated feet. He shuts his eyes and braces for the impact of the car, but it never comes. Instead, he hears the tires screech to a halt against the asphalt and a car door open.

“Oh, my god.” A familiar voice says as the sound of feet on pavement gets louder. “Are you o—Chris?”

Kurt shoots his eyes open to see Blaine standing over him, dumbfounded. He lets out a nervous laugh. “We have _got_ to stop meeting like this.” He jokes.

Blaine squats down to meet his level. “Do you need anything?” He jabs a thumb in the direction of his car. “I might have a juice box in my trunk, I know a traumatic experience can put a lot of unnecessary stress on the body—“

Kurt just chuckles, bringing a hand up to his face as he sits up. “I promise I’m fine, physically and emotionally.” He glances towards his car, face coated in a false wariness. “My car, though...” he turns back to Blaine. “I was on my way downtown and it stalled. Wouldn’t start up again.”

Blaine claps his hands together excitedly, eyes lighting up. “My dad and I built a car together once, so I might actually be able to be of some assistance!”

He stands and pulls Kurt up with him.

Kurt wants to laugh at how this guy resembles an excited puppy who just heard the words _car_ or _walk_. But it’s actually kind of nice, refreshing even, to see someone so genuinely enthusiastic about helping someone other than themselves.

“Really?” Kurt asks hopefully as they make their way to his car. “That would be just absolutely amazing.”

“Of course,” Blaine says, as if helping a nearly complete stranger is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head. “It’s no problem, really. I work right down the road. Just go ahead and pop the hood, we’ll have you back on the road in no time.”

Kurt pops the hood and steps aside so Blaine can take a look at his engine. He fiddles around with it for a moment before suddenly shooting up and sending a sideways glance towards Kurt. “Wait a second, you said you were headed downtown?”

He tenses. “Yeah..?” He drawls out cautiously.

Blaine just chuckles and Kurt hates that this guy’s smile makes his stomach flutter around with—he will _not_ say butterflies. It’s a chemical reaction he’s experiencing because his body is telling him it’s time to have sex again by reacting to any remotely good looking guy. _Biology, Kurt. Biology._

Blaine’s voice draws him back to the real world. “Downtown is in the complete opposite direction.”

“I really am hopeless.” Kurt shrugs.

“You’re just new...” Blaine shoots him a quick, encouraging smile and turns back around to the engine. Kurt waits patiently behind him. “So what brings you to the Bayview Resort?” He asks.

“My sister came on a work retreat.” He bristles even at the mention of Rachel’s fake identity. “She let me tag along.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“I wouldn’t describe her as nice.” He mutters, half to himself.

“If my memory serves correctly,” Blaine starts, reaching further down into Kurt’s engine (and Kurt’s not checking out his ass, he’s _not_) “It looks like it could be your carburetor.”

The absolute wrongness of Blaine’s statement is enough to snap Kurt back to reality (because okay, he _was_ checking out Blaine’s ass) and he has to bite his tongue in order to keep himself from saying _Of course it’s not the carburetor, the engine’s not overheated_.

Luckily, Blaine figures that out for himself. “Wait,” he mumbles, doing some more digging around the engine. “Aha!” He finally exclaims.

_Thank god_, Kurt thinks, restraining an eye roll. Just another reason he could never rely on another man in his life. If his car was really broken down and he needed to fix it himself, he would’ve been on the road much sooner.

“Your ignition cable somehow came unplugged.” There’s some more shuffling around. “There, should be all set.”

“Sorry you always have to come to my rescue, by the way.” Kurt adds sheepishly. “I think this makes three for three times you’ve saved my sorry ass?”

“It’s really no problem,” Blaine says, reaching up to shut the hood. “If we don’t take care of each other, nobody—“ he whirls around and stops dead in his tracks when he comes face to face with the other man, mere inches apart. “Will...” he finishes breathlessly.

His words take Kurt back to nine years ago, after the incident. Rachel had draped her arm around Kurt and pulled him close as he cried into her chest. “All we have is each other now,” she had said. “We need to take care of each other because if we don’t, nobody will.”

He blinks the memory out from his eyes, and refocuses on his mark. He can’t be wasting precious time right now. Every second counts... He sees Blaine’s eyes dart to his lips then back up to his eyes and thinks, _Good, he’s attracted to me. That’ll make things much easier._ He waits for him to ask for his number or a stupidly awful pick up line.

What he gets instead is “You have really lovely eyes, you know that?”

Kurt is always prepared. But not for that.

“Uh...” is all that makes its way out of his mouth. He’s had his fair share of weekend flings and one-night stands, so he knows every trick in the book a guy trying to get into his pants might use. But the earnestness in the other man’s voice is not something he’s used to.

“Sorry.” Blaine averts his gaze and shakes his head. “I-I don’t know what came over me.”

Kurt has to admit, the bashful schoolboy crush thing is really working for Blaine. Clearly, this guy knows where his strengths lie. “It’s okay.” Kurt says lowly.

He sees Blaine’s face darken just a tad, clears his throat and swallows. Kurt holds back a smirk.

“Thanks again.” He tells Blaine, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“It’s really no problem.” Blaine leans through the open window of the passenger side of the car. “I’ll see you around, right?”

Kurt has to resist the urge to plaster a shit-eating grin on his face, and opts for a gentler one instead. Rachel can suck it. He’s _so_ got this guy wrapped around his finger already.

“Of course you will.”

* * *

Kurt had intentionally snuck in late the night before, hoping to avoid his roommate. When he wakes up the next day, Rachel’s nowhere to be found. He’s grateful for that. He doesn’t have time to focus on their fight—not when he has a man to seduce.

He heads to the closet and immediately starts fishing for an outfit that will certainly grab Blaine’s attention before he heads out to Heartsongs later that night. He already knows what he’s going to say—“No way, this is where you work? A bunch of locals recommended this place.” But right now, he has to find an appropriate ensemble.

He finally decides on an outfit and tosses it onto the bed when he hears the door open.

God dammit.

He sighs and hears Rachel’s shoes against the tile behind him.

“Kurt..?” She asks, and he’s genuinely surprised because she’s never sounded this timid before.

“What?” He whips around and snarls at her.

“I’ve been practicing what to say to you all day,” she admits, taking a step towards him. He crosses his arms. “And I have like a million speeches in my head about how talented I think you are and how you mean the world to me and how it’s fitting that we’re playing brother and sister because I literally could not have gotten through the past decade without you—“ she cuts herself short, tears pooling in her eyes. “But then I realized in every version of every speech, I never once said I was sorry... so... I’m sorry.”

Kurt doesn’t meet her eyes, just grabs his outfit and brushes past her to put it on the ironing table. “It’s okay.” He says shortly.

She follows him. “It’s really not.” She says. “I let some stupid guy and my narcissism come between us and I never should have.”

He faces her again, suddenly heated. “I have always supported you, Rachel. Even when nobody else did. All I wanted was for you to return the favor... just once.”

“I know...” she says, surprising Kurt. “I thought of still pursuing Blaine Anderson with you as lead, but it would never work.” He narrows his eyes at her. “Because of me,” She finishes. “He’d never cheat on you with me, for obvious reasons. Which is why I found us another mark. Dustin Goolsby—openly bisexual broadway legend who likes to spend September in the Hamptons.” Kurt’s jaw drops and she offers up a surprisingly humble smile. “Besides, all that Anderson guy is gonna do is remind us of this stupid fight and I just wanna move forward... so... if you really want to, and I know you do, I’m all for you taking the lead in Goolsby.”

Kurt is absolutely astonished. Never in a million years would he have expected Rachel to do something like this. Despite all her flaws, she really is the only person he can trust.

But he’s already started a con on Blaine. And he doesn’t really know where it’s going, so he’ll need to put a lot of effort into figuring that out. Being lead on another con will mean spending less time with Blaine, and he doesn’t want that... because he’s already invested too much time, of course.

He knows bringing up Blaine right now to Rachel will only cause another fight—he can see it now: _“You started a con without me? How could you! After I just poured my heart out to you!?”_

No. He needs to keep what he has with Blaine on the down low and not take the lead with Goolsby to make room for Anderson.

“I appreciate the gesture,” he finally admits. “But Goolsby’s a trained actor and you have more experience than I do. If I spend too much time around him, he’ll see right through me. You were right.” He lies, shrugging. “I’m not ready.”

She places a hand on his shoulder, looking serious. “Of course. I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.” She says, even though Kurt knows she’s being kind of spurious.

He smiles. “Thank you Rachel.”

She smiles back. “So,” She starts, eyeing his outfit. “Where you headed?”

He freezes. Fuck. “I’m going to this gay club out on the edge of town. Dollar shots tonight. I really need to get laid, anyways.” The lie rolls right off his well practiced tongue. He knows it’s because the best lies have a grain of truth in them and based on the way he is around Blaine, he really does need to have sex soon. It’s a gamble, but he invites Rachel to make it seem more believable. “Care to join?”

The tension melts right off his body when she says “No thanks, I spent all day at the pool and bar. I’m pretty beat.”

He shrugs, heading into the bathroom to change. “Suit yourself.”

* * *

When Kurt pulls up to the parking lot of Heartsongs, he sees none other than _the_ Blaine Anderson sitting on a blanket on the nearby shoreline, silhouette barely visible underneath the moonlight.

Perfect. He throws his car into park and gets off, heading right towards his mark.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Blaine turns his head and Kurt notes in a completely objective manner that the way his eyes light up is ridiculously charming. “Chris!” He says ecstatically.

“What are you doing here?”

Blaine stands up and gestures to the adjacent bar. “I work here. Bar tending.”

He stands next to him. “Doesn’t seem like you’re serving much alcohol at the moment,” he kids.

He receives a shrug in response. “I’m on my break.”

Kurt finds that he is actually curious about what the hell Blaine is doing out here on his break. “So... you come out here to smoke or..?”

Blaine just laughs. “Uh, no. I... it’s silly but there’s a lot of hustle and bustle in this area and... I really love to sit out here and just get away from it all...”

Oh.

Kurt nods. “I see the appeal. It’s really beautiful out here.”

“I’ve seen a few things that come close...” Blaine says. Kurt looks at him and narrows his eyes slightly when Blaine quickly averts his eyes. “Look... Chris.” He starts. “I just think you should know that... I’m gay.”

He squishes his face up. “Uh, yeah. I know. Why would that be a problem?”

“Because,” Blaine rolls his eyes. “I know not every man is fine with having a gay man as a friend, especially if said gay man is attracted to them. I’ve been bullied over this, so I’m just offering you an out if you want one.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt says, confusion taking up permanent residence on his countenance. “I’ve been bullied too... I get it.”

“Why would you get bullied?” He asks in bewilderment.

Kurt shrugged, this should be obvious. “Because it was 2011 and I was the only openly gay student in my entire home town.”

“You—you’re..?” He stammers.

Kurt cocks an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?” Isn’t that what they were doing here this whole time? Flirting?

“Wow, it’s just... your sister told me otherwise.”

Kurt stills as the realization washes over him. Blaine didn’t know he was gay. So he wasn’t trying to hit on him. So... he was being... real. This whole time.

“Ugh,” He finally groans, shaking the thoughts from his brain. “Of course she did...” he sighs. “My sister and I... all we have is each other... she can get a little overprotective at times so if you see her, it’s best not to bring this up.” He points between the two of them.

“This?” Blaine emphasizes. “So... there’s _something_ right?”

He chuckles. “I sure hope so, or else I’ve completely misread a lot of situations. After all, you couldn’t help but tongue me down the first time you saw me.”

Blaine laughs heartily. “Quite romantic, isn’t it?” He spreads his hands out in front of him, gesturing as if reading out a movie title. “A Love Story In The Hamptons.”

Kurt snorts. “Love isn’t real,” he lets slip. Fuck. He immediately scolds himself. What the hell is he thinking, going on and being _honest_ with their mark? But... it’s hard not to be. Blaine is just so unexpectedly real and open that it feels almost blasphemous to not reciprocate, even if it's subconsciously.

“You’re telling me that you don’t believe in love?” Blaine asks in utter disbelief.

“You _do?_” He raises an eyebrow, rolling with the punches.

“Absolutely,” he answers without hesitation. “In fact, I believe in love at first sight, destiny, soulmates, fate...” he shrugs with a smile. “The works.”

Kurt just purses his lips. “I... wish I could say the same,” he finds himself admitting.

As it so happens, maybe this being honest thing will turn out to be a good thing because Blaine still seems interested. Really interested. Kurt feels his eyes skip across his lips. “I bet I could change your mind.”

“I’ll certainly let you give it the old college try...” Kurt shrugs coyly.

“I’m just saying,” Blaine starts up enthusiastically. “It’s no accident we were together tonight. It’s no coincidence that despite not having your number, and being in a town of a hundred thousand people, this is the third time in two days I’ve run into you. That _means_ something.”

Perhaps it’s the Taurus in him, but Kurt fights back the urge to argue and point out that it’s not fate that brought them together, but well conducted research. It doesn’t _mean_ jackshit. It means that Kurt always does his homework and reaps the rewards.

But he can’t tell him that. So he just smiles.

“My break is up.” Blaine says, suddenly checking his watch. “I would love to stay and spend another thirty minutes with you, believe me...” he looks longingly at Kurt. “I really have to go.”

“That’s alright,” Kurt says.

Blaine heads towards the bar, then immediately backtracks. “Can I get your number, before I go?”

Kurt beams. “Definitely.”

He puts his number into the other man’s phone and as he walks away, gives himself an imaginary pat on the back.

He’s totally killing this conman thing.


	4. Heartsongs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Included some hyperlinks in one scene if you want to check them out, for ~ambience~
> 
> enjoy this silly little chapter :)

_This is never going to work_, Kurt thinks.

Kurt and Rachel had tracked down Goolsby on social media and found that he frequents a cafe bar downtown.

So naturally, they head to said cafe bar downtown.

“There he is,” Rachel whispers, pointing to a salt and pepper haired older man, probably in his mid seventies, as they walk through the doors.

“I don’t know why I have to be here,” he complains.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Emotional support. And to watch and learn. Men like to be the center of their own world, and you expand that world if they think you were made just for them.”

He rolls his eyes and takes his place at the bar, hiding behind a menu. “I still think this is stupid,” he mutters and she makes her way up to their new mark.

“Oh, my god! Are you Dustin Goolsby?” She cries.

He looks up at her, clearly already loving the attention. “The one and only.” He says, taking a drag of his cigarette.

Kurt wants to gag. This guy may have been good looking once upon a time, but he’s ancient now, looks like he might spontaneously disintegrate at any moment.

“Call me crazy,” She starts up again. “But I own every single one of your albums. Your rendition of Mark in RENT was phenomenal. But my real admiration for you stems from your stunning performance in April Rhode’s all white production of The Wiz.”

“That’s a favorite of mine,” he says coolly. “Holds a special place in my heart.”

“I was actually conceived after one of your shows.”

“That’s amazing! I suppose that’s just the power of a compelling performance.”

“Yeah, it’s like we’re connected somehow...”

_What the fuck_, Kurt mouths from behind his menu.

“This might be presumptuous of me,” she bites her lip. “But could I bother you for a drink or something later? On me.”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Kurt’s mouth hangs open. He can’t believe that fucking worked.

* * *

**New Message:  
** **From: Chris Greer  
** _Meet me at Heartsongs tonight?_

**To: Chris Greer  
** **I’ll be here :)**

“Uh oh,” Sam’s voice calls out. “I know that look...” he trails off teasingly and Blaine’s head snaps up from his phone.

“Don’t we all,” Tina rolls her eyes. “I’m getting senior year flashbacks to your crush on Sam.”

The three of them sit in Heartsongs’s empty lobby, the way they do nearly every day before opening.

Blaine shoves his phone into his pocket. “Do you always have to bring that up?” He moans.

“Considering you two never miss an opportunity to bring up my crush on you,” she muses. “Absolutely.”

“Who is he?” Sam pries.

“Who’s who?” Blaine plays dumb.

“Come on, Blainey day!” Tina presses. “We’re your best friends, we can tell when you’re totally crushing on a new guy.”

Blaine smiles sheepishly and shakes his head. He looks at them, loftiness clouding his eyes. “Crush is not strong enough of a word.”

Tina and Sam exchange a knowing glance.

Blaine bites his lip contemplatively. “Alright,” he caves. “It’s the guy from the elevator.”

Sam nearly shoots up from his chair. “No way! You got elevator guy’s number!”

“His name is Chris.” Blaine corrects. “And I’m thoroughly convinced he’s my soulmate.”

Tina rolls her eyes.

“Dude, yes!” Sam cheers. “I’m so happy for you. What’s he like?”

“He-he’s funny, and smart, and witty, and oh my god, _so_ hot.”

“Nice,” Sam holds up a hand and Blaine hi-fives it.

“What else do you know about him?” Tina asks, failing to mask her skepticism.

“Not much...” Blaine admits. “_Yet_. I know he was bullied in high school, he has a sister...” he trails off, trying to think of anything else. “And uh...”

Tina purses her lips. “That’s all you have isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“And you think he’s your soulmate? Based off of... practically nothing?” She chides condescendingly.

“I know it’s crazy,” he starts, shaking his head. “But I feel something with him. Something like never before.”

“You’re right, that _is_ crazy,” She asides.

Sam gently smacks his arm on her shoulder. “Be supportive, he’s in love.”

“I may not know much about Chris,” he starts. “but you can bet that I will.”

* * *

When Kurt opens the door to Heartsongs for the first time, he does not expect to see Blaine and the blond haired man from the google search on stage, sharing a microphone and belting their lungs out to [David Bowie’s _Heroes_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uObn2YuEAt8) while the live band plays the instrumental.

The shorter man is grabbing the microphone stand and dancing around to the beat while he sings into it.

_We could be heroes_

He passes it to his equally goofy partner and they both sing the final line into the mic. Kurt has to resist laughing out loud—their energy is quite infectious.

Blaine finally seems to notice him, and he dopily holds up his index finger, smile widening.

_Just for one day _

The song finishes and hops off the stage to greet Kurt.

“Chris!” He beams, shamelessly pulling Kurt into a hug as if he’s a friend he’s known for years.

He hasn’t been held in another man’s arms in ages, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that very moment. If he wasn’t trying to take this guy’s money and run, he’s sure he’d make a great one-night stand.

“How’s your sister’s retreat?”

“Good!” He says as Blaine leads him to the bar, reclaiming his position behind it. “Today was all about not having inappropriate relationships with your students because even though it’s not _technically_ illegal, it’s against school policy. So she’s having a blast.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Blaine interjects.

Kurt gives him a coy smile. “Getting me a drink? You really know what you want, huh?”

Blaine laughs and ducks his head sheepishly. “Well it _is_ my job.”

“Surprise me.”

Blaine nods, reaching behind him to get ingredients for Kurt’s drink. “So, your sister, she’s...”

“Step sister,” Kurt amends, remembering their aliases have different last names. “Her mom married my dad our senior year of high school. She’s involved in administrative work at NYU.”

“And you?”

His response is perfectly timed to that of someone who'd be telling the truth. “I’m a bank teller. Typical nine to five, just like Dolly. What about you? Is moonlighting as a bartender at a low-key karaoke bar the extent of your daily activities?”

“Heartsongs is anything but low-key,” Blaine defends, flipping a bottle of blue liqueur before pouring it into the shaker in front of him, earning a mildly impressed expression from the other man. “Do you know of Callbacks?”

“Do I?” Kurt feigns ignorance. “I had my twenty-first there. All I remember is singing You Oughta Know with one of my friends and waking up the next day in bed with the bartender.”

“In that case, things look pretty good for me, don’t they?” Blaine lets out a chuckle when Kurt glares at him teasingly. “This bar was the first Callbacks.”

“You’re kidding?” This time, Kurt isn’t feigning anything. How did this rustic, shoreline bar become the hip and trendy Callbacks he knows? “How did you come into a job here?”

“My parents actually started Callbacks. They let me start bartending here during summers as soon as I turned eighteen. I loved it so much I came here permanently after I graduated from college.”

“Wow, that sounds a little intimidating, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “When I inherited Callbacks, it was admittedly more than I knew what to do with.”

“I can imagine.” Kurt suddenly comes to a realization. _Inherited_. As in... “I’m sorry about your parents.” He says, and he thinks it’s the first true thing he’s said to Blaine all night, or since he met him, for that matter. “What happened?”

“Nothing dramatic,” he starts. “My parents were very focused on getting their business off the ground and decided to have kids later in life. They had my brother Cooper in their mid-forties.”

Kurt narrows his eyes in thought. “Wait a second... Cooper Anderson?”

Blaine’s eye roll is enough of an answer to his question. “Yes.” He heaves. “You know him as a big time Hollywood actor, I just know him as a big time pain in my ass.” His laugh betrays his annoyance. “But I do love him... anyways, they had Cooper—planned—and ten years later, against all odds, they had a happy little accident named Blaine.”

He finally slides a Blue Hawaiian across the bar towards Kurt. “How’d you know?”

“It’s my job to know.”

Kurt takes a sip and sends a flirtatious smile through the straw at Blaine. “That’s really good... Anyway—your parents?”

Blaine returns the expression with a beaming grin before continuing. “My dad passed away three years ago, and my mom a year later, almost to the date. She said her body couldn’t hold on much longer without him. It was all very admittedly romantic, and I always knew I’d lose them young but... I still miss them.”

“I know how you feel... I lost my mom when I was eight years old,” Kurt finds himself saying. He's initially a little shocked at how easily that came to him, but.. he doesn't regret letting someone know the truth. Or at least not Blaine.

His eyes fill with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too...” he gives a false smile, trying to keep the mood light. Blaine only responds with a polite silence, like he _actually_ wants to hear more about Kurt’s life. So he tells him something he hopes will quench Blaine’s curiosity. “I’d put on little shows for her when I was a kid and she’d always humor me, saying that I had the potential to be a big star and change the world.” He smiles nostalgically at the memories. “But I did end up with the world’s greatest dad. So I’m grateful for that.” The trip down memory lane was nice, but he knows it’s time to turn the conversation’s focus back to Blaine. “What were your parents like?”

He barks out a laugh and Kurt pretends that it doesn’t make his stomach do a somersault. “My dad was honestly such a dad—typical jokes, loved to annoy the crap out of my mom with tickle fights, the works. My mom was all business and organization. She practically had us trained to pick up our toys and place them in their assigned bins by age three. But she loved us and always gave the best advice.”

“Care to share one of her nuggets of wisdom?”

Blaine’s eyes slant as he racks his brain for something. They shoot open and he fishes out his wallet from his pocket. He pulls out a well worn [two-dollar bill](https://www.pcscoins.com/secure/Content/ImagesProducts/e30b6635-a905-469b-bf25-69bbb7e048fa.jpg). “She got these from a business trip in Oregon once and brought one of each back for Cooper and I. She told us to always keep it in our wallets that way no matter what, we would always have at least two dollars to our names.”

“Wait, is that _real?_” Kurt asks in disbelief.

Blaine nods. “Yeah, they’re not rare or anything, a lot of people just don’t know they exist. Here.” He passes the bill over to Kurt who looks over Thomas Jefferson’s stoic face with a fascination he doesn’t even have to fake.

“She sounds like a wise woman.” He agrees, passing the bill back to Blaine.

“She was.” He smiles down at it nostalgically. “What about your dad?”

Kurt should be annoyed that his mark is getting so off track with his recon, but it’s actually quite nice to be able to just _talk_ with somebody. And so freely at that. Besides, if he holds out on him, he’ll know something is up, right?

“Fantastic. Best dad ever.” Blaine can see that there’s a shadow of sadness in the taller man’s smile, but he goes on before he has the chance to ask. “When I came out to him, I was so terrified—I lied and said I was on the football team to make him think I was straight. And then I _actually_ joined the football team when he said he wanted to see a game.”

“No way,” Blaine says, stifling a laugh.

“It’s true! I was the kicker.” Kurt finds himself laughing along. “I ended up teaching the whole team the Single Ladies dance and we used it to win our first—and only game of the season.”

“Alright,” Blaine starts lightheartedly. “There’s no way any of that’s true.”

“I swear on my life it is.” He laughs, feeling the effect of that Blue Hawaiian amplify the irony of the fact that it’s one of the only true things he’s said tonight. “Anyways, after the game, I finally came out to him. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. But he just pulled me into a hug and said _If that’s who you are, nothing I can do about it. And I love you just as much_.”

“He sounds amazing.”

Kurt nods. “I definitely couldn’t have gotten through High School without him.”

A comfortable silence settles between them as they reach a natural lull in the conversation.

“Is it usually this packed?” Kurt jokes, referring to the way the bar is almost entirely empty aside from a group of four middle aged women, two men in business casual suits, a man and a woman who appeared to be on a date, and of course Blaine’s friends.

“Yeah... business is usually pretty slow, but the regulars tip well. Truth be told, I always worry that my parents would be disappointed in me, as a businessman.”

“I assure you they have a lot to be proud of.”

“Thanks.” He smiles. “Do you think your mom would be proud of you?”

Kurt twists his face up in thought as he recalls the way he’s lived the past ten years. A sinking feeling presses into his chest as he realizes, “No...” he fiddles with his straw, stirring his drink. “I don’t think she would.”

“Don’t say that,” Blaine gently consoles him. “There are worse things to be than a bank teller.” A laugh breathes past his lips. “I mean, at least you’re not a criminal,” he says in an attempt to cheer up the other man.

Kurt stiffens.

He’d forgotten. He’d gotten so caught up in playing _This Is Your Life_ with Blaine that he’d actually forgotten his backstory. He silently scolds himself, reminded that there was no room for a mistake like that to happen again.

“Enough about me,” Kurt says. “What can we expect from Callbacks within the next new months.”

“_I_ don’t have much planned.” Blaine admits. “But I think the new owner will give all the Callbacks locations a nice upgrade.”

“New owner?” He cocks his head to the side.

“My parents were a very generous people, they taught me to be so as well... So I sold the Callbacks chain and gave all the profits to charity.”

Kurt’s stomach imperceptibly flutters before it drops.

“So...” He starts, dragging out the word carefully. “You’re basically broke, huh?”

Blaine laughs good naturedly, completely unaware of Kurt’s true motives behind the question. “Uh, well, no. I have Heartsongs.”

Great. The first mark Kurt’s ever gotten this far with and all he has to his name is some rinky-dinky karaoke bar in the middle of nowhere.

Well, that and two whole dollars.

He needs an out. _Now_.

“Listen,” he starts. “I had fun tonight, I really did... But I probably should’ve told you this earlier... the reason I wanted to meet you here was to tell you that we can’t see each other again.”

He tells himself it doesn’t hurt to see Blaine’s smile fade from his face. “What?”

“I've thought about it and... My sister and I made a pact in high school to never let a guy come between us.” He sighs. “If she found out... she’d never speak to me again.”

“You don’t think me not being able to physically reciprocate her feelings is something she could look past?” Blaine furrows his eyebrows, failing to connect the dots at Kurt’s flimsy excuse.

Kurt shrugs, taking his keys as he stands up. “I don’t think so, but either way it’s a risk I can’t take. Family comes first.”

And with that he heads up to leave.

“Chris!” Blaine calls after him, confused and disappointed.

But it’s too late, Kurt’s already out the door.

* * *

“I look ridiculous.”

“You look _hot_.”

“Where the fuck did you even find this outfit, Rachel? On a sex shop website?”

She’s uncharacteristically quiet.

“Oh, my god, Rachel, I could _kill_ you right now!”

He’s wearing black shorts that are too damn short for a man with any dignity to be wearing paired with a skintight black leotard that could easily pass as a tank top. To top it all off, he has isolated white cuffs and a black bow tie. He’s sure he looks like the Disney Approved love child of a stereotypical French maid and Chippendales employee.

“First of all, it’s _Megan_. Secondly, you can kill me after you have an affair with my soon to be husband. We’ve been on three dates and this old dog's balls are already so blue I can practically feel him looking at engagement rings just for the chance at a lay. Good thing I brought up the whole waiting for marriage bullshit early on.”

They pull up to the mansion and Kurt’s jaw drops. He never thought houses could be this big. The pair heads up to the front of the porch and Rachel raps on the door. It opens to reveal their mark.

“Megan,” Goolsby smiles. “How nice of you to drop by.” He turns his head to face Kurt and he wants to vomit at the way he rakes his eyes over his too exposed body. “Who’s your friend?” He pries, still staring at Kurt as he goes in to give Rachel a quick peck on the lips.

She waves her hand dismissively. “I was just thinking of how you mentioned the toll the upkeep on the house takes on you. I mean, this place is so big! You can’t possibly keep it clean all by yourself.” She places a hand on Kurt’s back and leads him forward. “So I brought Pierre here to help you out.”

“Bonjour.” Kurt starts, reaching out and taking Goolsby’s hand. “Je m'appelle Pierre. Enchanted to meet you.” He says in a thick fake French accent.

“That’s very considerate of you, Megan.” He opens the door wider, allowing them passage. “Please, do come in.”

Kurt is practically dizzy with awe as they follow him in the grandeur hallway.

“If I’m being honest, though” Goolsby starts. “I’m not entirely sure I need the help.”

“Oh, honey,” Rachel coos, draping an arm on the older man’s shoulder. “You may not think you need the help, but I assure you, once you get a taste of Pierre, you won’t be able to get enough.” He feels Goolsby’s gaze burning holes in him at her line. “He worked with Marie Kondo, you know.”

Kurt sends a panicked glare her way. They did _not_ agree on that particular selling point.

“Oh, is that so?” Goolsby asks.

A rigid smile appears on his face, knowing he has to go along with Rachel’s impromptu credits. “Of course. Marie is a wonderful woman.”

“Impressive.” They follow him into the grand and open living room where the oldest of the three takes a seat on a leather recliner. “I’m still not convinced, though.”

“Well,” says Rachel, heading out of the foyer. “I have to use the little girl’s room, but I’m sure Pierre will fill you in on all his credentials.”

As soon as she’s out of the room, Kurt makes his move. He strides purposefully towards a stack of books lying on the floor right in Goolsby’s line of sight.

“Oh no,” he tuts and shakes his head. “This just won’t do.” He slowly bends over and his shorts ride up dangerously close to the nudity zone, feeling the older man’s gaze practically burning holes in his ass. “This just won’t do,” he adds, snapping up with the books in his arms. He places them on a nearby shelf. “Books are to be treated with the utmost respect, Mr. Goolsby...”

Kurt smirks when he hears Goolsby mutter “If I get a view like that every time, I’ll disrespect books all over the damn house,” under his breath.

He heads over to Rachel’s bag and pulls out a thermos. It’s an old trick of his that Rachel normally uses to get their mark’s attention, but they’d decided that in this case, it might give them a leg up in convincing Goolsby to “hire” him.

“Tea?” He offers.

“That sounds lovely.”

He brings a mug along with the thermos and hands the cup to the washed out actor. He slowly pours the tea, and when it’s finally reached the brim, clinks the top of the thermos to the edge of the mug just enough so that it falls from Goolsby’s hands into his lap.

“Shit!”

“I am so sorry!” He gasps melodramatically, fishing a towel out from his pocket. “Allow me.”

“It’s fine, Pierre,” Goolsby hisses at the heat of the liquid spreading in his lap. “I can clean it up later.”

“Absolutely not! It would be a disgrace to allow for such things to be left dirty!”

“It’s really no—“

“Tell me, Monsieur Goolsby, do you like for your things to be dirty?” Kurt asks, cutting him off by already dabbing at the tea that’s hazardously near his groin area.

“Wh-what?” Goolsby stammers, hitch in his voice.

He forces the gag caught in his throat to stay there as he smells the harsh stench of cigarettes lingering over the elderly man’s body. Enduringly, he leans forward and plasters a flirty smile to his face, palming Goolsby’s crotch. He’s a little more than grossed out when the old man lets out an aroused groan.

“I said, do you like things dirty?” He repeats lowly.

If he didn’t know he would never see this dirty old man again after a few more weeks, Kurt might’ve been embarrassed. But he learned to be shameless about his false advances a long time ago.

“What’s going on in here?” Rachel’s voice interrupts them, hands on her hips.

Kurt and Goolsby whip their heads in her direction, a falsely worried expression painted on the former’s face—and a real one the latter’s.

“He spilled his tea,” Kurt says in his fake accent. “I helped him clean it up.”

She trades her glare for an enthusiastic grin. “See! I told you he could be helpful!”

“Yes,” Gooslby practically growls. “I think he’ll fit in nicely here.”

Kurt is almost certain he’s thrown up in his mouth a little.

* * *

It’s been two and half days since he left Blaine hanging at Heartsongs—not that Kurt’s counting.

Rachel is off perfecting the art of seducing a washed up broadway star, so he sits on the balcony alone, watching the world go by. He loves to stare at the little [riverwalk ](https://i2.wp.com/www.winetraveler.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/best-things-to-do-riverwalk-san-antonio-texas1.jpg?fit=1024%2C683&ssl=1)that runs right by their balcony, getting a small rush of joy every time a duck or a turtle swims by. It doesn’t seem like much, but it has a pretty calming effect.

On what, he’s not even sure of, but ever since that night at Heartsongs, he’s been a little... restless. Maybe a day or two out on the town would fix that. In high school he was always fairly friendly and effervescent, so he probably just had a taste of real socialization (for what was the first time in a long time) and wanted more.

It has absolutely nothing to do with Blaine.

The river is getting boring. He reaches for the little side table and picks up the latest issue of Vogue, fanning through the pages until he lands on something he deems worthy of his attention.

A few minutes into reading an article about ‘Unexpected Leather’, he thinks he hears a faint but familiar voice. He picks his head up, but doesn’t hear it again immediately, so turns his attention back to the magazine.

“Chris Greer!”

The magazine hits the table with a sharp slap as he realizes that someone _is_ actually trying to get his attention. He heads to the edge of the balcony, eyes widening when he sees—

“Blaine!?” He asks in bewilderment. The bartender is down in the riverwalk, actually in the river, standing in a freaking boat, shouting his (fake) name like a scene straight out of a John Hughes movie.

“The one and only.”

“Are you—is that... a canoe?”

“Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

He shakes his head like he might be hallucinating. “H-hold on. I’ll be right down.”

He rushes away from the balcony and towards the door. He backtracks when he passes a mirror and takes a few seconds to readjust his hair—it’s not to impress Blaine. It’s not. He just... takes pride in his appearance.

When his hair is styled to his liking, he rushes downstairs and out the front door, turning a corner to see Blaine, still in that ridiculous canoe.

“Y-you could’ve just called.” Kurt says, still failing to comprehend the absurdity that is Blaine Anderson.

“Would you have answered?”

“Probably not,” Kurt admits, crossing his arms. “What are you doing here? I said we should call it off.”

“And _I_ said I could change your mind about love,” he begins. “The only difference is that I intend to keep my promise.”

“Oh, believe me, I have every intention of breaking things off with you.”

“But you won’t.”

Kurt chooses to ignore that, along with the sudden rush in his stomach. “How did you even find me, Anderson?”

“My parents summered here for fifteen years of my life,” he gives him a shit eating grin. “I’ve got some connections. You’re not an easy guy to find.”

“So you’re stalking me now?” Kurt tries to sound accusatory, but he hears his voice involuntarily hold a more bantering tone than he’d like to admit.

“I like to think of it as persistence.” He shrugs. “And I think it’s a strategy that’s working.”

“Is that so?”

“That depends. Did you come all the way down here just to reject me?”

“I...” The truth is, Kurt doesn’t really know why he came down. He doesn’t know why he does a lot of things around Blaine. “My sister is the most important thing to me,” he says instead, because that’s easier than answering the question.

“All I’m saying is your if your sister has a problem with you being in a relationship with me—“

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Relationship?” He questions playfully, a grin teasing his lips. “That’s a strong word.”

Blaine ignores his skepticism, shooting him a mildly condescending glare. “All I’m saying is,” he restarts. “You’re allowed to have friends, right?”

He thinks it over for a moment. Blaine probably has some ties to other potential marks, even if he isn’t one himself anymore. Plus, it’s been admittedly lonely since Rachel is gone for most of the day. Is he really going to spend his time in the Hamptons sitting alone in a hotel room? Squander this golden, once in a lifetime opportunity?

None of it has to even mean anything. It’s just a little boat ride, a little fun...

“Friends?” He finally parrots.

“Friends... with potential.” Blaine smiles.

“Like in Say Anything?”

“Like in Say Anything.” He confirms.

Kurt narrows his eyes but steps into the canoe. “Don’t they get together in the end?” He teases as he takes a seat.

The only response he gets is the widening of Blaine’s grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: no spoilers but we've all seen what happens every time Klaine try to be just friends so that's all i have to say about that


	5. When Kurt Met Blaine Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this was originally supposed to be one chapter but it came out soooooo much longer than I anticipated so I decided to split it
> 
> Not much plot in this chapter tbh, but a few important things ;)

“I have a question.” Kurt states.

“Shoot.”

“Why do you own a canoe?”

Blaine lets out a laugh. “I don’t,” he confesses, rowing the oars back through the water. “It’s just a rental from a nearby park—our first destination, if you were wondering.”

Kurt’s eyebrow raises. “First?”

Blaine plasters a playfully pretend puzzlement on his face. “Did you think we were just hanging out for an hour or two?” He teases. “Oh no, I plan on spending the entire day with you, Chris Greer.”

The fact that this guy can’t seem to take a hint should be annoying as hell, but he’s so earnest that it comes off as... well, charming. So instead of telling him to fuck right off like he normally would, Kurt teases back at him. “This feels dangerously like kidnapping.”

Blaine stops rowing and gently places a hand on Kurt’s, instantly serious. “Look, I know I can be a bit persistent... I just really like you, okay? But if anything I do makes you uncomfortable at all, just say the word, and I will row you right back to your suite.”

Damn, there it is again, that disarming charm that Blaine throws around so effortlessly. It’s infuriating and... nice, all at once. Kurt plans to let Blaine know that he was entirely kidding when the shock of such a good natured response wears off, but he’s interrupted by a buzzing sensation in his pocket before he gets the chance to.

He digs his phone out from his pocket and sees the picture on the caller ID—he in a tux and Rachel in her prom dress.

“Shit,” he murmurs, then gives Blaine an apologetic glance. If he answers in front of Blaine he risks outing their illegal activity, and if he doesn’t answer, Rachel will definitely know something is up. After a moment, he figures it’s best to deal with a confused Blaine than an ignored Rachel. “It’s Megan. I gotta take this.”

With a sigh, he presses the answer button and holds the device up to his ear.

“_Kurt, where are you?_”

“Uh...” he racks his brain for any excuse she might buy, but all that comes out is, “Exploring.”

“_Alright, well, I came back to the apartment to grab my swimsuit—Dust Bunny wants to go for a dip in the pool—and I can’t find it anywhere. Did you happen to take it?_”

“So many things wrong with that sentence.” He grumbles. “Firstly, why would I ever borrow something from _your_ wardrobe.” She scoffs at him. “Secondly, Dust Bunny? I’m going to vomit. Finally, check at the top of the closet, across the ironing board.”

He hears some shuffling around on the other end of the line and then, “_Aha! You’re a life saver, Kurt. What would I do without you?_”

“Crash and burn?” He smiles.

“_I’ll see you at home later, love you_.”

“Love you, too.”

Blaine’s head snaps up and his ears perk at those last three words. He just said he loved someone, which might not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but to him... it opens up an entire world of possibilities with the man sitting across from him.

“So...” Blaine eventually drawls. “About this whole love thing.”

He sends his eyes rolling towards the heavens. This again? “I told you, I just don’t buy into it.”

“You say that,” Blaine contests. “But you obviously love your sister.”

“I do... but that’s different.”

“How so?”

Kurt narrows his eyes teasingly. “Your interrogation is getting awfully _Flowers In The Attic_ right now.”

He responds by waving his hands in circles, urging Kurt to answer the question. “I’m trying to make a point.”

“I love my sister, and I’m sure she loves me, but I’m obviously not sexually attracted to her. Sometimes I think we get so caught up in our biological responses—racing hearts, sweaty palms—that we confuse it for non-familial love. Anger, arousal, and anxiety all give you the same effect, with only about half the disappointment.”

“So, do you just live off of one night stands?”

Kurt just shrugs. “Sex is a physiological need for most people, but that’s no reason to get involved emotionally. You don’t look a cow in the eye as you slaughter it for your burger, do you?”

Blaine’s jaw drops. “That’s dark.”

“That’s _honest_.” Kurt corrects him.

“You and I have very different interpretations of honesty.”

“Here’s some honesty for you: I think we’re a social species, and we do need friends and family... But to put all your trust into one person because you _love_ them?” He puffs out a breath and shakes his head. “It’s naive. It’s irresponsible.”

Blaine shakes his head. “Okay, the cow thing was dark, but that was so much worse.”

“Alright, what about you, lover boy?” Kurt humors him. “What’s your stance on love?”

“Love...” Blaine starts, inhaling melodramatically. “Is like oxygen. Love is many a splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!”

“I’m serious!” Kurt bursts out laughing. “What do _you_ think about it—and no stealing from Moulin Rouge this time.”

“Ah, so the notorious love hater gets a reference from a movie about a main character who shares his grim viewpoint. Interesting.”

“I swear to god, Anderson!” Kurt can’t help but laugh again. “Answer the question. You made me do it. Besides, I’m curious what it’s like inside the mind of a mentally unstable person.”

“_I’m_ mentally unstable?”

“Answer!”

He stares off wistfully for a moment then shrugs. “I definitely believe in love.”

“Noted.”

“I’ve been in love before, fallen out of it, and that’s okay.” He admits. “People come into our lives as we need them and just because things don’t work out doesn’t mean they weren’t important.”

“You sound like you’ve never had your heart broken.”

All he gets is a sheepish shrug.

“Wow,” Kurt huffs. “Lucky you.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says. “I’ve been dumped by and broken up with my fair share of men but... none of them ever left me wanting more. Not the way I do with you.”

While Kurt is busy gaping, Blaine just rolls right along with the conversation in that way he does, as if what he said is no big deal. Like it’s the simplest truth there is.

“But I really think that everybody has at least one person out there who they’re meant to be with forever.“ Kurt snorts at the thought. “Someone you can’t imagine life without, someone you want everything with; the good, the bad, and the ugly. A soulmate...”

He trails off as they finally pull up to the shore of a park surrounded by nearby local businesses just off the riverwalk.

“And you think yours is..?”

Once again, Blaine irritatingly avoids the question. “Have you eaten today?”

For what’s probably the hundredth time that day, Kurt goes against his better instincts that tell him to go home and sends a smile Blaine’s way.

“Not a bite.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later and they’re sitting at a small diner just off the riverwalk, both with half eaten burgers sitting in front of them.

“Gun to your head, you have to pick one musical artist to grab dinner with, go!” Blaine shoots.

Kurt barely has to think about it. “Patti LuPone.”

His eyebrows raise. “You like musical theatre?”

“You’re surprised?”

“Guess not. Why her?”

Kurt’s eyes shoot open. “I can’t believe you just asked that.” He says dubiously. “It’s more than just the name. Yes, she’s been around for ages and like a fine wine, only gets better with age. But she’s more than that, she’s an icon who lives up to the hype! I mean her performance as [Eva Perón in Evita](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QtZxxbStjs) is more than just stunning, its practically impeccable.” Blaine nods along, listening intently. “Not just the voice—I mean, she’s got natural talent of course—but the technique is phenomenal! And her articulation and stylistic interpretations could only be those of someone who spends hours upon hours of rehearsal time cultivating each note to perfection.”

For what’s probably the first time since Kurt met him, Blaine is struck speechless.

“Sorry,” heat rises to Kurt’s cheeks as he realizes he just let himself completely nerd out in front of a total stranger. Well... they weren’t really strangers anymore. He supposes they could even be... friends. He backtracks immediately, fighting the urge to move faster than he’s used to when it comes to getting to know others.

Acquaintance. That makes more sense. They’re acquaintances.

“Never apologize for being passionate,” he replies. “So, you could say you _love_ her?”

“I’m going to hit you, I swear.” He says teasingly.

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

Blaine rolls his eyes, but Kurt’s face suddenly sobers as the mood does a complete one-eighty. “What?” He finally asks in a combination of dread and shock.

“I just...” Blaine shakes his head, realizing his attempt at dark humor may have been inappropriate. “Sorry, I cope with serious issues using humor and it doesn’t always work out the way I expect it to.”

“Wh-What happened?” Kurt cautions. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Same old, same old, only out gay kids at the school get beat up after the school dance... My parents transferred me to a different school after that, which sucked at first, but I met Tina and Sam there, so it all worked out.”

He reaches across the table and places a hand on Blaine’s. “I’m so sorry, really.” And he is. The fact that this happened to anyone is unsettling, but the fact that it happened to Blaine... sets a visceral sadness in his chest that he can’t seem to shake.

There’s a prolonged silence and Kurt can tell that Blaine’s uncomfortable, and for some reason, he wants him to be anything but. So he starts the conversation up again on something he knows will cheer the other man up, or at least take his mind off the grim subject.

“What about you? Gun to your head, one musical artist?”

Blaine beams at him and Kurt knows he made the right move. “It’s a close one, because are so many great artists out there. But someone whose brain I’d really just love to pick is Billy Joel.”

“Ah, the piano man.”

He nods, glad to have the playful mood back so easily. “He’s practically a musical genius. He uses musical techniques that I didn’t learn about until my third year in college. To put something that harmonically complex out into the radio is admirable. I don’t know if you know this, but he’s also mentioned in interviews that he draws a lot of inspiration from classical instruments and music. Like in _The Longest Time_, the main melody is based off of a seventh chord that’s supposed to mimic a violin. He’s a prodigy.”

“What’s your favorite song of his?” Kurt inquires, admittedly a tad surprised that he actually wants to know. He wants to know... _everything_ about Blaine, if he can.

Blaine hums, thinking it over for a moment. “[And So It Goes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcUCYtyaLrY).”

Kurt seems surprised. “The firm believer in love’s favorite song is a break up song?”

“It is not a break up song!” He defends.

“Aren’t the words literally: _you can have this heart to break_?”

“Exactly,” he contends. “It’s a song about someone who’s been exclusively burned by love in the past, someone who has _only felt the thorns_ of love, so to speak. It’s a song about choosing to be vulnerable with someone, choosing love again...” their eyes meet and Kurt’s gut could probably score a solid 10 at the gymnastics Olympic event. “Even if it means getting hurt all over again.”

It’s only after a few moments of silence and staring into Blaine’s ridiculously honey colored eyes that Kurt realizes he’s forgotten to breathe. He sucks in a breath and swallows in an attempt to hydrate his suddenly dry throat. _Anger, anxiety, arousal..._ he reminds himself. _Must be arousal._ “I’m sure it’s a beautiful song,” he finally responds. “But the poetry leaves something to be desired.”

“I think the words are the most beautiful part.”

Kurt chortles. “You would.” He shakes his head. “Why would anyone willingly go into a relationship they think is doomed from the start?”

There’s not even a moment of contemplation before Blaine answers with, “Because some people are worth getting your heart broken over.”

* * *

“Care for a slushy?”

“Only if you promise not to throw it in my face.”

Blaine shoots Kurt a wildly concerned glance before passing him the sweet treat.

They walk away from the vendor, down the sidewalk.

Kurt waves a dismissive hand and takes it. “I was in glee club in high school, which was not cool, so people would grab these from the cafeteria and throw them in our faces whenever they could.”

“That’s awful.” Blaine is appalled. “Why would you stay there?”

“I had Megan and a few other friends there. And I did transfer, eventually,” he continues. “After my biggest bully ended up outing himself to me by kissing me.”

“What!? That’s insane.”

“You’re telling me,” Kurt chuckled at the absurdity of it all. “It’s actually then that I met my first boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Blaine drags out the one syllable word to emphasize that he’s intrigued. “So you _have_ had a relationship before.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and sends Blaine a teasing little grin. “To be fair, I was in high school and naive and...” His face falls as he slowly shakes his head back and forth. “It was a pretty nasty breakup...”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be...” Kurt purses his lips. “It was probably for the best.”

_Because then I’d have never met you_, Kurt almost says and holy shit, what the hell is wrong with him today? Why is he being so damn needy, and clingy, and just all around off his game with Blaine? He really, really needs to get a hold of himself.

“So,” Blaine thankfully starts up again, taking a sip from his slushy. “Where’d you go to school? After graduation?”

Kurt’s lips make a thin line. “I uh... I didn’t.” He looks down at the ground, fiddling with his straw.

“Oh...” there’s a short awkward silence before Blaine breaks it. “That’s fine, college really isn’t for everybody.”

He laughs bitterly. “It wasn’t by choice,” he finds himself admitting. “Or at least, not mine.”

“Who’s choice was it?”

“Carmen Tibideux’s.”

When he sees Blaine’s jaw drop he’s suddenly reminded that Blaine knows exactly who he’s talking about. This is the second time he’s forgotten and he berates himself. He’s letting his guard down and it’s already cost him two mistakes. He has _got_ to be more careful about these kind of things.

“You auditioned for NYADA?”

He supposes he’ll just roll with the punches he’s thrown at himself. “Yeah.”

“You’re kidding...”

“I’m as serious as sin.”

“I graduated from there.”

Kurt pretends to look surprised. “Really?” He asks, as if he didn’t already know this.

Blaine nods enthusiastically. “Class of 2016. We totally could’ve met there!”

“I suppose we could have.”

He spins around to walk backwards to face Kurt while they stroll along the sidewalk and points a finger at him. “I’m telling you, this is fate.”

He’s met with the narrowing of Kurt’s eyes. “You sure do talk a lot about fate for someone who wants to be just friends.”

“No,” he replies. “_You_ want to be just friends. I want to humor that choice until you realize you’re head over heels in love with me. That way, I can spend as much time as possible with you.”

Kurt opens his mouth to respond, but the other man takes the words right out of it, falling back in line with him.

“Right,” he nods, dragging out the word. “You don’t believe in love... yet.”

“Why is it the more I get to know you the more the line between your confidence and cockiness blurs?”

Blaine just grins. “How are you liking our friend-date?”

Kurt playfully feigns indifference. “Well, it sure beats staying in the suite crying my eyes out while Something Borrowed plays on repeat.”

Blaine seems mildly surprised. “I didn’t take you for a rom-com guy.”

“I’m not.” _Not anymore._ “Truth be told that was the movie my ex and I saw on our first date... it kind of became our movie.”

A pregnant pause swells in the air and for a moment, Kurt thinks he’s said too much until—

“Oh, that’s such crap.”

“Come again?”

Blaine shakes his head like he can’t even fathom the thought of a relationship being founded on such an awful movie as the one in question—which he really can’t. “Something Borrowed is easily _the_ worst rom-com of all time. Possibly worst movie of all time.”

“What makes you say that?” Kurt says defensively. Dating Sebastian may have been a poor decision, but he had excellent taste in movies.

“A good romantic comedy is pretty self explanatory,” he begins and Kurt takes a seat on a nearby bench, realizing this answer might take a while. Blaine follows suit, gesticulating with each word. “You need romance and you need comedy.”

“Of course,” Kurt says, nodding his head while he humors the other man.

“Right off the bat, the romance factor is completely tarnished by the fact that the main couple is not one you want to support.” He explains passionately. “I mean, are we really supposed to root for the girl who didn’t tell her crush she liked him soon enough and the guy who cheats on his fiancé with her best friend? It has some funny moments, I’ll give it that. However, any comedy is absolutely overshadowed by the fact that the overall storyline is just depressing as hell.”

“Maybe it’s just realistic,” Kurt refutes. Playing devil’s advocate to admittedly just get a rise out of Blaine.

It works, and Kurt has to fight a smile by gently biting down on the inside of his cheeks.

“Realistic?” He sounds absolutely flabbergasted that anyone could even suggest such a horrid idea.

“Yeah,” Kurt continues to tease. Though, he does believe in the side he’s arguing for, he’s just obviously not as passionate about it as Blaine is. “People cheat. Friends fall out. Sometimes the person you love doesn’t love you back.”

“No,” he replies surely. “More often than not, people are inherently good. You can’t cram all that negativity into one movie and slap the rom-com label on it. Besides, if I wanted realistic I wouldn’t watch a movie... there’s nothing wrong with being a little cheesy, a little cliche.”

“You’re quite the rom-com connoisseur, aren’t you?”

“It’s my favorite genre of movie,” he spills. He suddenly bounces up from the bench. “I know what we’re doing next,” he announces.

“Why do I have a sneaking suspicion it involves a movie marathon?”

He takes Kurt’s hand in his and starts leading him towards the parking lot. “Because it does.”

As they walk, Kurt gently notes that Blaine’s hand in his feels almost electric. He’s sure he’s just picking up on Blaine’s passion, though.

“We are going to my place—with my extensive dvd collection—and we are going to find our own movie. Something better than Something Borrowed.”

“So you expect me to just willing go with you—someone I’ve known for what, five days—to your house, and watch my least favorite type of movie?” He asks incredulously.

“You can always say no.”

Kurt knows he absolutely should. He shouldn’t be leading this guy on any more than he already has. But what’s the alternative? Going back to the suite and waiting for Rachel to get back from getting Goolsby all hot and bothered?

Still... he should _really_ say no.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he rolls his eyes back towards his brain, heads over to the passenger side of the car, and opens the door. “One movie.” He agrees.

Blaine practically vibrates with victory as he slides into the driver seat.

“Okay the only problem we have now is deciding which one. I mean, Made of Honor is a classic, and Patrick Dempsey? What teen crushes are made of. Sweet Home Alabama is oh so charming, 27 Dresses is cute but lacks a bit of meat. Oh my god, 13 Going On 30! Now _there’s_ a classic—“

He talks his ear off about how 13 Going On 30 is a cinematic masterpiece for practically the entire car ride.

Kurt doesn’t even mind.


	6. When Kurt Met Blaine Pt 2

Madonna’s_ [Crazy For You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4CKtOh5p6E) _plays from the TV as they watch Mark Ruffalo and Jennifer Gardner run out of the on-screen house, both donning wedding attire.

The screen goes black and credits roll.

“What did you think?” Blaine looks at Kurt expectantly.

“It was cute,” Kurt admits with an unimpressed roll of his shoulders. “I love me a good Whitney Houston makeover montage but... if we’re going to find our movie—“ Kurt sees Blaine’s face perk up and interjects himself to remind him, “as _friends_—I think we could do better.”

“Better than 13 Going On 30?” He holds a hand to his chest in offense. “That’s a pretty high bar, but I think I know just the movie for you... have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?”

“You mean the heteronormative mess that perpetuates the sexist myth in which a man can’t be into someone unless he wants to sleep with them? Can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure of doing so.”

“Stop being such a reductive cynic!”

“Hey, take me as I am or not at all.”

Blaine simply smiles, fondness hazing his eyes. “Well, not at all simply isn’t an option.”

Kurt is no stranger to the myriad of strategies men will use to try and win over his attention, but somehow, understanding that this isn’t just some tactic—that it’s just Blaine being _Blaine_—sends a rush of blood climbing up his neck. Christ, he hasn’t blushed since high school and he knows from long summer days in the sun and his fights with Rachel that it’ll take longer than it should for the red hue to fade from his face.

Blaine jerks his head towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna make some popcorn, do you want some?”

“Sure.” Kurt says, but makes no effort to move which he doesn’t realize is an issue until a few seconds later.

“Uh, Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“As much as I love having you pressed up against me, I’m gonna need you to move if I’m gonna make us that popcorn.”

Suddenly Kurt is very, _very_ aware of their positions—Blaine resting in the corner created by the right arm and back of the couch, and Kurt with his legs tucked up and to the side and on the couch but his torso leaning up against Blaine’s chest.

“Oh...”

He doesn’t even remember moving into that position (but assumes it must’ve happened sometime between the _Razzle Red_ and _Why Can’t I?_ scenes of their previous featured film). It all just felt so natural, like he was meant to be in Blaine’s embrace.

_Woah there, “Chris Greer”. Desperate much? Calm down, maybe take a cold shower when you get home._

Kurt clears his throat and shifts his weight to the opposite arm of the couch. It’s not as comfortable or as warm as Blaine’s body, but it’ll have to do. He can’t keep giving the bartender the wrong idea, despite what his subconscious is telling him.

Within the span of three minutes, Kurt can hear the intermittent pop of the kernels in the microwave and smell the familiar buttery goodness of Pop-Secret.

Finally, Blaine returns to the couch with a bowl for them to share.

“Alright,” Blaine starts. “I’m popping in When Harry Met Sally because the fact that you haven’t seen the romcom to _end_ all romcoms is an even bigger travesty than the fact that you had an entire relationship founded on Something Borrowed.”

“You’re never going to let me live that one down, are you?”

“You can spend the rest of your life trying to convince me to.”

“Is that a threat?”

“More like an invitation.”

Kurt doesn’t have any time to dwell on the meaning behind Blaine’s words before the opening sequences to the movie start.

Harry and Sally are shown in the screen, bickering the entire car ride from Chicago to New York.

“Oh, this is off to a promising start,” Kurt huffs. “The lewd and the prude. A match made in heaven.”

“You’re insufferable.” Blaine chides, but he smiles and takes a handful of their snack.

“Let me guess, they’re going to spend the car ride learning about each other and realizing they have so much more than they thought in common! And then, they’ll—surprise!—fall in love?” Kurt says cockily with an underlying bitterness to it.

“Normally, I would defend this movie to my death, but instead I’m going to pass you this popcorn and hope that keeps you quiet enough to actually watch the movie.”

Kurt takes some in his mouth and after its full of popcorn, says, “Nope.”

“We’re you raised by wolves?”

“Nope,” Kurt repeats, mouth still full of food. “B—“ _Burt Hummel_, he‘s about to say before he stops himself.

Dammit. Maybe Rachel was right, he’s not experienced enough to be lead. He chalks it up to the fact that Blaine isn’t technically his mark anymore, and he doesn’t feel the need to have his guard up so consistently.

Thankfully, the scene changes and distracts them both. The screen shows an airport with the subtitle: Five Years Later.

“Wait a second,” Kurt’s face twists up in confusion. “Five Years Later?”

Blaine silently smirks and pops another flake into his mouth.

Thirty minutes later, Kurt’s watching the display through his fingers with a mild second hand embarrassment as Meg Ryan’s character fakes an orgasm in the middle of a diner, her moans gradually becoming increasingly dramatic.

“Oh, my god!” Kurt squeals with delight. “Tell me she is not doing this right now.”

_“I’ll have what she’s having,”_ an old woman on screen says after the whole ordeal is over and done with.

Kurt throws his head back laughing like a child, while Blaine drinks in the image like he’ll never get another chance.

A few more minutes pass and they watch Harry and Sally shop for their friend’s housewarming party at the electronics store. A tall brunette woman walks on scene and is identified as Helen—Harry’s ex-wife who left him for another man.

Kurt glares the character down. “Fuck Helen.”

“Agreed,” Blaine murmurs.

“I mean, really? Flaunting her new man in front of Harry? That’s just awful. I can’t believe they were married.”

“You’re telling me! Helen is the worst.”

They simultaneously reach into the popcorn bowl. When their fingers brush past each other, Kurt has to fight back the strong instinct to latch on to Blaine’s hand. He manages, and moves on from the moment without incident.

Try as he might to hide it from Blaine, Kurt can definitely feel the other man watching his regrettably adolescent reaction with an enthusiasm that makes him feel—warm. Not warm enough to stop missing being at Blaine’s side, but he tosses that thought aside before it can become something he doesn’t want it to be.

Finally, they reach the ending scene where Harry is running with all his haste to the New Year’s Eve party Sally is at.

“Oh please tell me he’s not going to the party wearing _that_.” Kurt tries to sound annoyed but can feel tears of... something forming behind his eyes. Is it sadness? Excitement? He really can’t tell, all he knows is that he hasn’t reacted this way to a movie in years.

The two main characters finally confess their love for each other and exchange a passionate kiss, then they’re shown sitting on the same couch as the other couples displayed throughout the movie.

As the screen fades to black, Kurt finds himself letting out a contented sigh.

When he turns to Blaine to gauge his reaction, Kurt finds him already staring back.

“You seemed to enjoy that a lot for someone who doesn’t quote unquote believe in love.”

Just like that, Kurt is brought back to the real world. The one where nothing like this movie could ever, ever happen. He avoids Blaine’s gaze and busies himself by reaching forward for a glass of water on the coffee table, even though he isn’t thirsty.

“I don’t believe in superheroes but I still saw Endgame twice. I think it’s a nice thought and can be very entertaining in a movie, but it’s just not in the cards for some people—“

When he turns his head around and is met with Blaine’s drop dead gorgeous hazel eyes, the realization hits him like a slap across the face: he wants to kiss Blaine.

“It could be.” Blaine responds, voice low and eyes half lidded.

Hell, he wants to do a whole lot more than just kiss Blaine. Maybe he will. Maybe Kurt will get drunk with Blaine one night, have his way with him, then never look back again, the way he has so many times before.

A wave of guilt passes over him for even considering that, though, and he immediately dismisses the thought. The guys he spends the night with know exactly what they’re getting into, but if he slept with someone as naive Blaine, the poor, sappy sucker would probably propose on the spot.

His thoughts are interrupted by Blaine’s phone alarm going off.

He digs it out of his pocket and shoots Kurt an apologetic glance. “Shit...” he mumbles. “I have to get to Heartsongs. My shift starts soon.”

Kurt’s not disappointed. He’s not. But movies are always entertaining (even the cheesiest rom com can distract you from the absurdity of life for a few hours) and Blaine’s couch is quite comfortable, so he does find himself wishing they didn’t have to go.

“Oh, okay...”

“But you’re welcome to come,” he quickly adds. “I mean, I can’t keep you from going, not that I’d want to it’s just that—“ he stops and gathers himself. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

Kurt thinks it over for a moment, not giving the attention his beating-too-fast heart is demanding.

Since Blaine isn’t a mark anymore, Kurt can admit this much to himself: he likes Blaine. _Really_ likes him. The only other person at his disposal who’s this good at keeping him entertained is Rachel and she’s still busy trying to win over Goolsby. She definitely won’t miss him if he manages to spare a few extra hours for Blaine.

Besides, if Blaine is insisting, then—

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

* * *

Although Heartsongs really isn’t his usual scene, Kurt has to admit that it has a certain rustic beach house charm to it.

There’s tables and booths on one side of the large lobby and on the other side a small stage with a live band to accommodate anybody who might want to get up and sing. It’s quite unique, actually. None of the other Callbacks locations have a live band, not even the one in Times Square.

Fishnets pinned up on the walls with small shells and other oceanic decorations really complete the vaguely nautical theme of the establishment.

Blaine leads him into the open area where the only people so far are the blond man Blaine was singing with last time he was here and a Korean girl with blonde streaks in her thick brown hair.

Sam nudges Tina excitedly, pointing out their intertwined hands. On the other hand, she stares at them like they’re the admission board member who made the call to waitlist her for Brown. Blaine has known this guy for what, four days, tops? And he thinks he’s his _soulmate_..? She’s dubious about the whole situation, to say the least.

They walk up to the table and Blaine gestures to the pair. “Chris, these are my two best friends, Tina and Sam. Tina, Sam, this is Chris.”

“Riiiiiiiight,” Tina says doubtfully. “The guy you’re convinced is your soul—“

“Sole source of entertainment outside of us!” Sam finishes off with a beaming grin, discreetly nudging his elbow into her rib cage.

Blaine shoots Sam a grateful look and gestures for Kurt to sit down. “I’ll be right back.” He heads to the bar and returns momentarily with a tray of four drinks.

Blaine slides a clear drink over to Kurt. “I didn’t know what to get you, so I took another guess. Mojito.”

“I actually really love those,” Kurt says, because he actually does.

“One of the perks of being best friends with a bartender,” Tina says, reaching for the drink with the pink tint and salt on the rim.

Sam reaches for a jack and coke. “Free drinks.” They clink their glasses together with a tinny ping.

“Am I turning you guys into alcoholics?” Blaine jests.

”God, no,” Tina responds, taking a long sip from her straw. “We’ve just got to party it up while the three of us still can.”

“Can we not talk about the future, please?” Sam asks, hanging his head. “It’s bad enough I have to move back to California, I would love to not be reminded of that every second.”

Kurt furrows his eyebrows. “Why do you have to leave?”

Tina snaps her head towards him. “You don’t have to answer such a personal question to practically a complete stranger,” she says hotly.

“It’s fine...” Sam replies, moving his hand in a “down, girl” motion. Kurt eyes her warily while Sam raises an eyebrow at her. “Typical story, came to New York, cost of living is too high, parents are letting me move back with them.”

Blaine looks down at his drink sadly. “It sucks. Sam transferred to our school sophomore year of high school and the three of us have been inseparable since.”

“Yeah,” Tina sighs. “It’s gonna be weird without him.”

“Again,” Sam groans. “I would like to not be reminded of my impending leave.”

Kurt feels Blaine’s side press up next to him and doesn’t make an effort to pull away. The contact is nice, natural. He’s certainly not going to decline such a comforting gesture.

Sam almost unnoticeably raises his eyebrows, clearly taking note of the close contact.

“You could always think of it as a new beginning,” says Blaine, discreetly returning his friend’s smirk while keeping up the conversation. “It’s almost exciting.”

Kurt lets out a disbelieving laugh at the same time Sam says “Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

“I’m with Sam on this one.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “You’re a bunch of cynics.”

“You’re telling me the future doesn’t freak you out?” Kurt asks, utterly bewildered. The past is too dark to dwell on and the future is always too uncertain to look forward to. The here and now is the best thing about life, and Kurt’s lived his that way for a long time.

“Not really,” Blaine shrugs. “I’ve got a great life here, and Heartsongs is all the safety net I need if there’s ever an emergency.”

“Yeah,” Sam huffs out a laugh. “I’d say three million is a pretty cushy safety net.”

“What do you mean?” Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I mean, not to be rude but it doesn’t seem like this place gets three million dollars worth of business.” He gestures to the rest of the empty bar.

He takes a sip of his drink and nearly spits it out when Tina explains it to him. “The business isn’t really worth much, though, as a business major, I have to say it does have a lot of potential.... Anyways, a bunch of land developers would just love to get their grubby little hands on this place. Hamptons Shoreline is peak real estate, last time a company offered Blainey days here three million for it. And they were low-balling.”

“Do you have to call me that in front of him?” He mutters to her.

Kurt stares in awe at his drink for a second, then quickly reaches for it and downs the rest of it in one gulp, resisting the urge to slam his head against his table.

He fucked up.

He suddenly stands up. “I’ve got to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.” And heads to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and figure out this mess he got himself into.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Sam turns to Blaine. “Seems like it’s going pretty well with elevator guy.” He waggles his eyebrows at him. “I like him.”

“I don’t,” Tina mutters, and Sam is positive his elbow is going to find a permanent home in her rib age if she keeps this up.

Blaine gives a heavy hearted sigh. “Not as good as you’d think.” Sam and Tina exchange concerned glances and Blaine sighs before continuing. “He just wants to be friends.”

“What?” Sam asks, failing to believe the exchange he just witnessed constitutes as just friends. “That cant be right, you two have so much chemistry that there should be a flammable warning next to you two!”

“Get this,” Blaine leans in towards his friends. They mirror him. “He doesn’t believe in love,” he whispers it as if it’s a dirty little secret that should never be shared with anybody.

“What!?” Sam throws his hands up in disbelief. “How can you not believe in love?”

While Blaine sends him an agreeing and equally appalled look, Tina rolls her eyes. “We can’t all be as hopeless as you two.”

He sees Kurt coming out of the restroom (where, unbeknownst to Blaine he just screamed and slapped himself across the face for letting three million slip into the friend-zone) and Sam watches as he stares.

Blaine shakes his head defeatedly. “I really like him, but how the hell am I supposed to convince him to give me a shot?” He asks desperately.

Sam gives him a sly grin. “The power of music.”

“I don’t think you’re listening, he wants to be just friends, _and_ he doesn’t believe in love.”

“Well that’s nothing a little Tim McGraw can’t fix,” he says with a smile and faux-twang, rising from his seat.

“Literally nobody knows what you’re talking about, Sam.”

He rolls his eyes at Blaine. “Go get your man for a dance. I’ll handle the rest.” With a wink and a nudge, he gets up and heads over to the stage, stopping by the band and whispering something into the piano player’s ear.

Tina rolls her eyes as well, but for completely different reasons. This guy is clearly not interested in Blaine, and he’s only going to get his heart broken if he keeps up this unfruitful pursuit.

“This is for all you lovebirds in the house tonight,” he says into the mic. Blaine has to refrain from dragging a hand down his face in embarrassment. There are no lovebirds in the house tonight. There are barely any regular birds in the house tonight.

Just as Kurt slides into the seat next to him, Sam starts [singing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIZ-2FB5a3g).

** _Dancin' when the stars go blue_ **  
** _Dancin' where the evening fell_ **  
** _Dancin' in your wooden shoes_ **  
** _In a wedding gown_ **

Kurt’s eyes light up. “Oh my god. I love this song.”

Blaine is floored. He sends an astonished look towards Sam, who responds with a lightly triumphant expression and continues singing.

“It’s a long way from Patti LuPone,” Blaine finally says, trying to wrap his head around the fact that the man in front of him loves a country song.

“It was my parent’s wedding song.” He explains.

Blaine stares, expression softening.

Sam gives Blaine a pointed look and jerks his head in the direction of the dancefloor. His notoriously oblivious friend finally seems to get it.

Blaine stands up and extends a hand towards Kurt, earning yet another eye roll from Tina. God, they might as well stay up in her skull. “May I have this dance.”

A wave of relief washes over Kurt. This is his second chance. At the con. “Yes...” he smiles. “Yes you may.”

As he takes his hand and follows Blaine to the dance floor, Sam gives his best friend a wide smile and a huge thumbs up.

** _Dancin' out on 7th street_ **  
** _Dancin' through the underground_ **  
** _Dancin' with a marionette_ **  
** _Are you happy now?_ **

They sway along to the music and though he hates admitting it, it’s really nice to be held in someone else’s arms.

_Social creatures_, Kurt reminds himself. _Humans are social creatures. We need physical interaction._

His thoughts are interrupted by Blaine’s tinkling laugh and gorgeous hazel eyes that are crinkling at the edges from giving such a genuine smile and the way he ducks his head so innocently, so damn bashfully and—

Shit.

He swallows, hard, begging his racing heart to just _calm the fuck down_.

“What?” He asks, a bit sharply if anything, when he’s finally gotten a hold of his hormones.

“You’re just... holding on to me pretty tight.”

As soon as it’s brought to his attention, he loosens his grip from around Blaine’s waist and attempts to minimize the gesture. “It’s the charm of Heartsongs,” he jokes with a tight shrug of his shoulders. “Shoddy little bars just... really get me going.”

“Especially on such a busy night,” Blaine plays back.

** _Where do you go when you're lonely_ **  
** _Where do you go when you're blue_ **  
** _Where do you go when you're lonely_ **  
** _I'll follow you_ **  
** _When the stars go blue_ **

“I don’t get it,” Kurt says honestly, moving his arms up behind Blaine’s neck. “You’ve been given the golden opportunity. Why don’t you sell it, live out the rest of your days here in peace?”

Blaine just shrugs indifferently. “My parents met here and when they finally made something of themselves they bought it. I wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for this place.” Kurt watches his eyes dance to his lips and back up to his own. “I think it’s kind of romantic.”

That’s a good sign. This is his chance to get back in the game, fix what he ruined the other day. All he has to do is let Blaine Anderson kiss him.

** _Laughing with your pretty mouth_ **  
** _Laughing with your broken eyes_ **  
** _Laughing with your lover's tongue_ **  
** _In a lullaby_ **

“So...” Blaine starts, gently swaying with Kurt in his arms. “About this whole friends with potential thing. There... _is_ potential, right? I’ve been told I can be pretty clueless when it comes to romance, and I don’t want to screw this up.”

Kurt ducks his head, feigning shyness. “I wasn’t sure at first...” he meets Blaine’s gaze. “But you can be pretty convincing, so... yes. A lot of potential. No need to worry about wasting your time.”

“A moment spent with you could never be wasted time.” Blaine whispers back.

The words alone are enough to send a shiver down Kurt’s spine, and for a split second his mind flickers with wonder. Is it the words, or who’s saying them?

** _Where do you go when you're lonely_ **  
** _Where do you go when you're blue_ **  
** _Where do you go when you're lonely_ **  
** _I'll follow you_ **  
** _When the stars go blue_ **  
** _The stars go blue_ **

His heartbeat quickens its pace once more when he realizes that Blaine is leaning in intimately close to his face.

Before Blaine is able to close the gap between their faces, Kurt takes a step back, hands dropping off of Blaine’s neck.

He sees the poorly concealed confusion and hurt on Blaine’s face and it kills him. Why does it kill him? It shouldn’t affect him at all because he _shouldn’t_ _care_.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, shaking his head. “I just... it’s been a while.”

The words find their own way out of his mouth because in a sense, they are true. It has been a while since—

_Since you’ve felt like this_.

His brain fills in the blanks for him, and he immediately rejects it, pushing the thought to the deepest darkest corner of his mind. The same place he keeps all those things that happened nine years ago hidden.

“I should go,” he says quickly, fighting back tears. Tearing himself away from Blaine’s embrace is so much harder for him to do than it should be, but he manages.

He’s out the door before Blaine even has a chance to protest.

** _Stars go blue..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: let’s play a game called “Who Doesn’t Know How To Deal With Their Feelings!?” Lol shitty chapter is shitty but the next one is one of my favorites I think?


	7. Into The Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: EDIT: Sorry this is so late!! We has TMEA District Choir Auditions today and its pretty much an all day event, but I promised to update every Saturday so here it is! 
> 
> I just wanna say seeing that all the comments from the last chapter were essentially just y’all begging Kurt to get his shot together made my day 😂 thank you all so much! The next three (four? (Five? (I don’t remember))) chapters are honestly some of my favorites so just... buckle up, sit back, enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Warnings:  
Thoughts that could be considered suicidal if you look too deep  
Lowkey existential crisis

Tina watches the whole scene from their table. It goes without saying that she’s not a fan of what she sees: her best friend looking sad and confused, abandoned on the dancefloor.

He rushes up to Sam. “Will you watch the bar for me, please?” He asks desperately.

“Of course,” Sam says without hesitation, taking his spot behind the bar.

She watches him head to the door.

“Don’t do it.” She warns. Sam glares at her. “Don’t you dare go chasing after him.”

“I have to.” He shakes his head at her and ignores her advice to not follow the man who just left him.

As soon as he’s out of the door, Sam voices his thoughts on the matter of Tina’s attitude.

“We’re not in high school anymore, Tina.”

She purses her lips and crosses her arms in response. “He’s so obviously just using Blaine!” She defends. “I don’t know why I’m the only one who can see that.”

“I think you’re just so used to protecting Blaine that you’re looking for a reason to, even if there’s not one.”

She scoffs. She’d been the one to take care of Blaine whenever he needed it, even if he didn’t ask for it. Okay, maybe part of it was due to her slightly inappropriate crush, but the love was always there. Blaine is the little brother she never had and she’s grown accustom to having to protect him.

“You might have a point.” She relents, to his astonishment. He’s right back to judgment a second later when she continues. “But that’s not it. There’s something _off_ about Chris.”

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes.

A buzzing noise interrupts them and Sam pulls out his phone. “Ah shit,” he grumbles. “It’s work. Someone called in, they need me to cover.” He looks at her with pleading eyes. “I need the hours.”

It’s Tina’s turn to roll her eyes. “Go.”

Leave it to her to clean up her boys’ messes.

* * *

Kurt stands in front of the ocean, hands deep in his pocket. He shuts his eyes as the cool ocean air sprints across his face.

He hadn’t been able to kiss him. He tells himself it’s because of their two week rule, but the remaining, tiny, honest part of him knows it’s not that. The time came for him to be independent, make his own move on a mark as lead and he _failed_.

And the worst part is, he doesn’t even really know why.

He’s kissed guys before—hell, he’s done a lot more than kiss guys. A lot of hook ups and one night stands (that he’s sure his dad would never approve of, but he digresses). His ex-fiancé, obviously.

A fear comes creeping in, deep in the pit of his belly as he realizes why he didn’t—why he _couldn’t_ kiss Blaine.

He’s afraid that it would _mean_ something to him. He’s terrified that _Blaine_ means something to him. Caring about someone gives them power over you, and you can’t always be sure that they’ll use it right. Kurt knows all too well what it can do to a person if they don’t.

He opens his eyes when he hears the soft crunching of sand behind him. “Where are you going?”

_Dammit_.

Kurt snaps himself back to planet earth. He’s supposed to be running a con right now, not contemplating if he has feelings for his mark. The decision is made right then and there that he doesn’t—as if it’s something he has any control over. These feelings don’t have to be anything if he doesn’t let them be. He‘s in control of his own damn life.

And he decides that right now, he’s gonna scam the _shit_ out of Blaine Anderson.

He turns around, doing his best to maintain his coquettish front, and peels off his shirt. “I’m going for a swim.” He tosses his shirt to Blaine, who catches it, flustered. He reaches down and strips down to his boxers. “Care to join?”

He sends a flirty grin towards the other man before turning around and heading into the water, leaving Blaine gaping after him.

It’s rough and choppy and biting cold against his skin, but he doesn’t mind. It’s exhilarating in the best way, knowing he’s at the mercy of an uncontrollable force of nature.

The pull of a sizable undertow nearly drags him under, but he manages to keep his footing. He lets the wave crash over him, not even caring that it’s going to completely ruin his hair because for a moment, under the water, everything is quiet and peaceful.

The sting of the cold air against his wet skin sends shivers down his spine as he gasps for a lungful of oxygen. He’s not really sure how long he was under, but based on the size of the wave and how desperate he was for air, it was pretty close to too long.

Another undertow starts, this one considerably bigger than the last. Blaine watches from the shore, stepping into the shallows when he sees the other man stay still.

“Chris...” he calls out, but his voice must be lost amongst the sound of crashing waves because the paler man doesn’t respond.

Blaine realizes he has no intention of moving out of the way of the wave that could very well drown him and sprints into the water.

Chris!” Blaine calls out to him, trudging through the water. “_Chris!_”

But he doesn’t react to his name being called.

Because it’s _not_. That’s not his name, and suddenly the wave in front of Kurt is like the looming realization that he _hates_ what his life has become. He hates living a lie. He didn’t fucking spend four years in high school preaching to everybody that they should live their own truths just to do a complete 180 and go right back to living a lie every single day.

But what else could he do? He didn’t have Sebastian, he didn’t have his dad. He and Rachel had no back up plan after not getting into NYADA, so they turned to a life of crime. It had started off small enough, and Kurt never thought it would be so permanent, that he would become so dependent on it... but he was in way too deep now. For fuck’s sake, the goddamned IRS was on their trail.

He knew exactly who he was in high school. Kurt Hummel, out and proud, son of Burt Hummel, straight A student, peak glee club member, Cheerio extraordinaire, someone who made a difference. He was someone who _mattered_.

But since the accident... he had no idea who he was.

He braces himself for the cold, cresting water. It can take him—whoever that might be—down into the ocean for all he cares.

He doesn’t hear Blaine screaming his pseudonym right behind him when the wave comes slamming down onto him like the hand of god. Finally, the trepidation he should have been feeling five minutes ago is awoken as he’s sent soaring backwards in the undertow.

A curtain of darkness surrounds him while he futilely reaches out with all his limbs for something to hold on to.

Then suddenly, like a lifeline, a pair of arms wrap themselves around his chest and drag him out up to the surface, where he gasps for air. They keep pulling him all the way back to the shoreline.

“Jesus Christ!” Blaine scolds, still gripping Kurt. “Are you fucking crazy? You could’ve killed yourself, Chris!”

Kurt spins around, writhing his way out of Blaine’s grasp and bristling at the alias. “Stop _calling_ me that!” He shouts.

For a moment he doesn’t quite know why those words come out of his mouth. Then it dawns on him. More than anything, he wants to hear his name—his real one—come off of Blaine’s lips.

“_What!?_”

_Fucking shit._

“I—nothing...” he stammers. He takes a deep breath and plops down on the sand, wrapping his arms around his knees and hoping that’ll make him feel less exposed than he does right now. “Just... do you ever stand by the ocean and wonder what it would be like to just walk in and keep walking until the water rises above your head.” He starts, tears pooling in his eyes. He blinks and they fall. “And then you realize you don’t have to wonder because you’re already fucking drowning... Drowning in a life you don’t know if you want anymore, and a reflection you don’t even recognize.”

Kurt can _feel_ Blaine’s worried gaze on him and he hates it. He can practically see the gears turning in his head, and can’t stand the thought of Blaine finally realizing how damaged he truly is. He should have never said anything...

He’s ready for it—for him to turn and run, exactly the way Sebastian did.

“I mean...” Blaine begins, searching for the right words. He doesn’t want to ostracize the man sitting next to him, which seems to happen any time things get too serious. When he’s ready, he’ll talk. But right now, Blaine doesn’t want to push too much. “Sometimes... But then the salt water washes up into your nose and snaps you back to reality.” He opts for some comedic relief, his gut saying that more prodding will only push him away. He scrunches up his face childishly. “Now all you’ve done is burn your sinuses.”

Kurt gapes at him for a moment and despite himself... permits a laugh to escape his lips. “You’re ridiculous.” He sputters out.

“It’s not ridiculous if it gets you to smile.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, and means it for what’s probably the first time in years. “I think I needed that more than I thought I did.”

And for a moment, the thought almost crosses his mind... that Blaine _did_know. He knew just what Kurt needed even when he didn’t know for himself.

He shuts it down before it can evolve into a complete thought. Love isn’t real, and he certainly doesn’t love Blaine.

This is getting exhausting. His life is no one’s but his own. Reactions and emotions are both things that he has command over—something he’s going to prove to himself right now.

He leans over and meets Blaine’s lips with his own. He feels Blaine’s initial surprise gradually melt away as he cups Kurt’s cheek. It’s slow and tender and he can still taste the salt water on their breaths as they mingle together.

Kurt sucks in an unsteady breath when Blaine gently opens his mouth wider to let his almost hesitant tongue slide past the threshold into his mouth. He reflexively reaches a hand up to grab a fistful of curly hair and has to remind himself that it’s just biology. Blaine Anderson is a fantastic kisser, and he’s allowed to want more without it being emotional.

When they pull apart, Kurt’s left a little breathless. He sees the biggest smile on the other man’s face.

There. He’d finally done it. He kissed him and it didn’t have to mean anything.

He lets out a relieved sigh.

“Come on.” Blaine stands, still smiling like an idiot, and holds out a hand. “Let’s get you some dry clothes and I’ll take you home.”

Kurt Hummel is a phenomenal liar.

And the person he’s learned to best fool is himself.

* * *

When Blaine walks back into Heartsongs, Tina is waiting for him behind the bar.

“You know this is so illegal, right?” She says. “I don’t have a bar tending license.”

She’d texted him as soon as Sam had to leave that the bar was unmanned. Blaine had responded nearly thirty minutes later asking her to just look after it for a while longer—he’d be dropping off Chris.

He just shrugs. “Business was slow anyways. It always is.”

“How was your little ride with Chris?” She leans forward on the bar as he takes a seat on one of the barstools.

He can’t keep the grin off his face. “It was nice. We made plans to go see a movie later this week.” She gives him a condescending glare that he rolls his eyes at. “I really, _really_ like him, Tay tay. He’s special. He’s different. He’s—“

“Playing games with your head.” She interrupts him. “Coming and going as he pleases, not giving you a clear idea of what’s going on with you two, not taking your feelings into consideration.”

“That’s a bit dramatic.”

“Is it?” She questions, pouring out two shots of vodka. “He waltzes in and out of your life at his own leisure. He’s fucking—“

Blaine reaches for one of the shot glasses and she slaps his hand away. “These are both for me because I have to deal with your oblivious ass.”

He pouts at her and she downs the two shots. “As I was saying: he’s fucking with your head and if you don’t walk away now you’re only gonna get your heart broken.”

“He loves me.” Blaine counters.

“Oh, did he tell you that?”

“No... not yet...” he admits. “But I know it. I can feel it. He’s just...” he shakes his head, recalling the events from earlier. “You should’ve seen him earlier tonight, Tina. He’s been through the wringer. He’s been hurt before.” He sighs. “I know he loves me.”

“Do you love him?” She asks after a short silence. She’s silently praying that he doesn’t, because then there might not be any hope left for her best friend.

“I wasn’t sure before, but after tonight,” he says breathlessly. “I do.”

* * *

Rachel is off perfecting the art of seducing washed up broadway stars, so Kurt has the entire suite to himself. He’s still on a high from last night, from how successful his play is going, of course.

A knocking noise interrupts his alone time, and he’s a bit put off. He hadn’t expected Rachel back so soon.

He heads to the door and opens it, revealing the familiar face of one of Blaine’s closest friends.

“Hey! Tina, right? Blaine’s friend? We met—“

“Let’s cut the bullshit,” she barrels right over him.

He takes a step back and grips the door a little tighter, her tone so threatening that shutting in her face seems like a splendid idea. “Excuse me?”

“Stop playing games with Blaine.” She spits.

Something deep and primal tugs at his gut. “I’m not,” he growls out. “I really care about him.” He intends for the last five words out of his mouth to be a lie, but he’s astonished (if a little unnerved) when he realizes they’re not, at least not completely.

“Is that why you keep leaving him hanging? Following you around like a lost puppy?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” As defenses rise, he has to remind himself that there’s no need for them to. He’s not defensive because he doesn’t feel guilty... he _doesn’t_.

“Oh, don’t I?” She takes a bold step towards him. “You think I didn’t notice how _convenient_ it was that the moment you found out Heartsongs was worth three mil, you were suddenly interested in Blaine again?”

“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” he tries to shut the door, but she slams her palm against it and holds it open.

“Listen, I’m sure you think you like him...” She narrows her eyes at him. “But guys like you chew guys like him up and spit them out.” Her expression softens just a tad, her anger giving way to a more pleading demeanor. “Blaine is a _good_ guy, and he is falling faster and harder than I’ve ever seen him before. He’s never been hurt before, not by someone like you... back off before you completely destroy him.”

Kurt swallows. Okay... maybe he does feel a smidge of guilt.

He and Rachel have justified every con ever with their motto: _You can’t con an honest man. Good thing they_ _don’t exist._ Every mark they’d ever had before had been so easily willing to cheat on Rachel after being withheld sex for a few weeks—even if they were supposedly straight and said cheating was just the unfulfilled promise of a blow or handjob from another man. It was really rather pathetic.

In Kurt’s experience, men fought as a way to stay connected, even him. Sometimes, _especially_ him. He’d done it with Sebastian more than a handful of times, and his ex had done it right back. It was as if arguing senselessly gave them a reason to talk to each other and making up gave the false sensation of gaining closeness.

But Blaine... Blaine isn’t like that. He’s only known him for a handful of days and every time Kurt’s given him plenty of reason to run for the hills, pushed him away, or ran from him, he just comes back and pulls him closer with even more kindness and openness.

He thinks back to the night before on the beach and how Blaine had been there for him, known exactly what he needed. Any other man would’ve left or taken advantage of Kurt’s emotional vulnerability. But not Blaine.

He’s not afraid of intimacy. He’s not afraid to be a goofball. He’s not _afraid_.

And Kurt is.

Kurt’s terrified because although you can’t con an honest man, he thinks now that they might exist.

“Do you love him?” She asks bluntly, breaking the silence and Kurt’s train of thoughts.

“What?”

“I said: do you _love_ him?” She repeats.

_“_I...”

But he can’t... He simply... _can’t_ bring himself to say it. Not if it might be true.

A disgusted scoff makes its way out of her mouth. “That’s what I thought.”

For some inexplicable reason, tears begin to pool up in his eyes, something that’s been happening much too often lately. She turns and walks away and he shuts the door behind her.

It kills him to know that she’s absolutely right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Soundtrack for this chapter: Into The Ocean - Blue October 😂


	8. If It's Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: shoutout to my new beta for this fic, Adri! Thanks so much for helping me elevate this story and thanks for literally always being there to scream about fic with me!
> 
> Remember kids: fic is litt

Blaine picks his phone up for what must be the hundredth time that evening.

Sam slides him a beer across the table. “Still hasn’t called?” He checks in.

Blaine just shakes his head, not even remotely interested in the drink. “I just don’t get it,” he looks up at his friend with the most pitiful expression he’s ever seen. “Everything was going great, he kissed me, we bonded, we were... something. And then out of nowhere, he’s gone. Just like that. He seemed so enthusiastic about our date today and he just... stood me up.”

Sam places a sympathetic hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “It’s alright, bro. Maybe he’s just busy spending time with his sister or something?” He suggests.

“Or maybe I’m just an idiot who can’t take a hint.”

Before Sam can argue, a customer walks up to the bar to order something and Blaine heads over to take it. “I gotta take this,” he grumbles, passing Tina on his way.

She sends him a worried glance and sits next to Sam. “What’s his problem?”

“Chris pretty much ghosted him.”

She crosses her arms, grimacing at even the mention of Blaine’s current boy toy. “Good riddance.”

Sam glares at her incredulously. “Seriously, T? Could you have a little sympathy for the guy? He just got his heart broken.”

“He would’ve eventually, but sure, gripe at me for pulling that Chris patterned band-aid off.” She mutters, half expecting the blond not to hear her.

He does, and his eyes go wide as he slowly turns to gawk at her. “What did you just say.”

“Nothing,” She says all too quickly. 

“Tina Cohen-Chang, did you meddle in Blaine’s love life when I specifically told you not to?”

She throws her hands back defensively and tries to respond calmly. “All I did was speed up the inevit—“

“Did you meddle!?” 

“Fine!” She snaps. “I meddled!”

“God, if I wasn’t so angry with you I’d do that Mufasa impression—“ He lowers his voice and rounds out his vowels. “ _ You deliberately disobeyed me. _ ” Frustrated with his inability to resist a good impression, he slams a hand down on the table and throws a pointed finger at her. “You didn’t deserve to hear that, Tina Cohen- _ Meddler! _ ”

“What was I supposed to do!?” She shout-whispers, leaning in close to Sam. “Just let it be? Keep my mouth shut and let Chris keep playing Blaine?”

“First of all,” Sam’s voice swoops condescendingly. “He’s not playing Blaine. Secondly, yes! That’s exactly what you should’ve done.”

She just shrugs. “Well it’s too late. Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Yes there is... tell him the truth.”

Her jaw drops. “I can’t tell him what I did, he’ll hate me!”

“Tell him or I will.” Sam grunts.

Their friend finally returns, sliding into the booth. “Tell me what?”

Tina drags out a lengthy, exasperated sigh. She doesn’t want to do this, but it’ll be a hundred times worse if Sam tells Blaine what she did, which she knows he will if she doesn’t. “I...” She starts. “I might’ve told Chris to back off... from you.”

Blaine’s head snaps towards her. “You _what!?_”

“I was just trying to protect you!” She defends.

“That’s not a decision you get to make, T!” He responds, hastily getting up and making his way towards the doors.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go talk to him.”

With that, he heads out the door.

Sam glares at Tina condescendingly from across the booth. “I’m not gonna say I told you so, but...”

She holds up a hand to him. “Shut up, Sam.”

“I told you so.”

* * *

Rachel bangs on the door to the bathroom. “I swear to god, Kurt, if you don’t hurry up we will both be broke forever! I have to meet Dustin in—“ she glances at her phone. “Jesus, three hours! If I am not groomed to perfection, he’s not going to want to propose!”

_ “Sorry!” _ He shouts back in a sing-song voice through the door.  _ “I can’t hear you over the sound of my best friend being a total priss!” _

“Ooooh,” she lets out a shrill howl of frustration.

There’s a few knocks on the door and she heads over to open it.

“We didn’t order any room se—“ She opens the door to see none other than their previous mark that never was. Her eyes shoot open in surprise, then furrow in confusion. “Blaine?”

He looks quite distressed. “Is Chris here?”

She pulls her head back, even more confused than before. “Who?”

He reciprocates her puzzlement. “Uh, your brother?”

Her face falls as he continues.

“I hadn’t been able to get a hold of him for a couple of days, then I found out my best friend paid him a little visit and told him to back off and I just—“ he squeezes his eyes tightly and inhales sharply, like it pains Blaine to have gone so long without contact. “I really need to see him,” he finishes off desperately. 

It finally clicks. Kurt’s been running a con on Blaine Anderson...  _ without _ her. The rage of betrayal spreads from the pit of her stomach, making her ears burn red.

“Of course, my brother.” She presses out a rigid smile. “You actually just missed him. He said he was on his way to some gay bar out on the edge of town.” She lies, parroting her supposed partner’s old words.

She notes the way his eyes dull with hurt. “Oh...” he says. “Do–Do you have an address for that?”

If she wasn’t so mad, she would be impressed with the handle Kurt’s got on this guy. But she can break that real quick.

“I actually don’t, sorry.” She shrugs, a false but convincing innocence in her voice.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

The sound of the water shutting off makes her realize she doesn’t have much time. “Again, I’m not my brother’s keeper, sorry. But look for the hottest guy around and you’ll probably find Chris in his bed tomorrow morning... that’s kind of his style.”

She shuts the door in his face before he has a chance to say anything else.

Kurt finally steps out of the bathroom, drying his hair with his towel. He’s met with the sight of Rachel glowering at him, arms crossed.

“You just missed it!” Her voice is honeyed over with a phony ignorance. “We had a little visitor.”

“Really?” He inquires casually, completely unaware of her suspicions. “Who?”

“Blaine Anderson.”

He freezes in the middle of fluffing his hair with his towel. 

It’s been two days since Tina came and instilled guilt into Kurt over conning Blaine. Ever since that conversation, it‘s been too hard to answer any of his phone calls or text messages. He doesn’t really understand why, but he figures that focusing on just Rachel and Goolsby is easier than dealing with whatever emotional turmoil he‘s subject to now. It‘s always better to ignore these types of things. Which is why he ghosted Blaine.

Kurt never expected him to come knocking on the door, looking for him, which he now realizes he should have because that’s exactly what he did the first time.

“Huh,” he swallows, failing to meet her eyes, and continues with his routine nonchalantly. “That’s weird, haven’t seen him since we got here.”

“I wouldn’t lie to me if I were you, babe.” She warns. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

He tosses his towel on the bed and a glare at her, knowing he’s been caught. 

“I can’t believe you’re running a con without me.”

“It’s just practice for the very near future,” he says bluntly. If it’s possible, her eyes flare up even more. He just huffs, throwing on a shirt and buttoning it up, making a valiant attempt at damage control. “Besides, I stopped it. Decided to just focus on you and Goolsby.”

“That’s not the point, Kurt!”

It’s times like this that Kurt laments having such an exhausting and high maintenance best friend. He shimmies into his skinny jeans. “Then what  _ is _ the point, Rachel? Please, enlighten me.”

“The point is that we decided, as a team, that you weren’t ready to be a lead yet!”

“I only said that so I’d have more time to focus on Anderson,” he spills with a sarcastically sheepish shrug.

A biting laugh scrapes it’s way out of her throat. “Oh, that’s so much better. You’ve been lying to me for longer than I thought. We lie to our marks, Kurt! Not to each other.”

“I don’t understand why you’re making this into such a big deal!”

“Because you’re careless! Remember that time you snuck back into an old mark’s house to return that bracelet he gave me.”

Kurt purses his lips. “It was his dead mother’s. Kind of hit a soft spot.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, we are  _ criminals _ , Kurt,” she points out brusquely. “We might listen to podcasts about broadway musicals and watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta, but we are still criminals who are facing a life in jail! We can’t  _ afford _ to have soft spots. The next time you wanna return some douchebag’s family heirloom you could get us caught! You’re too emotional to do this on your own, and you need someone like me to put some common sense into you!”

“You’re calling  _ me _ emotional?” He scoffs. “That’s fucking rich.”

She throws her arms out in frustration. “I just don’t know why you don’t get that we can’t do this alone!”

“ _ We _ can’t?” He spits. “Or  _ you _ can’t?” He catches a glimmer of fear flock across her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to go solo for a while, and you’ve been adamantly against that.” He strides up to her, crossing his arms and putting his face right up into hers. “Why is that? Is it because we’re best friends or because you know I’m the brains behind the operation?”

She clenches her fist, deflecting the question with another question. “Do you ever wonder why none of my husbands ever go for you first?”

“Because they’re straight?”

“Because they want  _ me!” _ She yells over him. “What makes you think you can go from sloppy second-choice consolation prize to a leading man so easily?”

He lets out a sour laugh. “Sloppy seconds? Is that why Goolsby is drooling over me every time we go over? Is that why  _ every single one _ of our marks was so willing to give up an entire marriage with you for something better?”

He’s about to cross a line he knows he shouldn’t, but Rachel started this argument—and he’s about to finish it.

“Kind of the way Jesse did?”

The already burning fire in her eyes is only further fueled by his hurtful words. “Fuck you.” She snarls quietly, hot angry tears building up behind her eyelids.

“No, fuck you!” He retorts back, throwing his jacket on and heading towards the door. “This is the second fight we’ve had over Blaine, and I’m not entirely convinced it’s his fault anymore. Grow up, Rachel. This isn’t high school, and I’m not just some random glee club member swaying in the background to your big solo.” He opens it and steps out, throwing her one last glare. “I’m going to get that three million. I’ll show you that I can do this—I’m just as good as you are, as much as you hate admitting that.” 

With that, he slams the door in her face.

* * *

Kurt walks hastily through the doors into the bar that’s now become so familiar to him, only to be greeted with the pitiful sight of Blaine sitting behind it and looking downcast. He takes a stabilizing breath and walks up to him.

“Hey,” Blaine mutters, continuing to wipe the countertop and not meeting Kurt’s gaze. “Haven’t seen you in a while...” 

Kurt can hear Blaine ineffectively trying to mask the bitter undertones in his voice. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, unsure of where all this sudden sincerity is coming from.

“I guess I can’t really be too upset with you. I mean, Tina can be pretty intimidating.” Blaine looks up at him with wide, round eyes. He looks like a damn kicked puppy and Kurt can’t help but feel that guilt Tina instilled in him resurface just a tad. “I just... thought we had something special—I guess I was kind of blindsided when Megan told me you went to a bar alone.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, hearing the disappointment pouring out of Blaine’s voice.

“Megan’s just... a little protective,” Kurt starts. “I didn’t go to any bar.”

“But you  _ did _ ignore me for two days,” Blaine points out. Kurt actually winces, like he can feel the pain Blaine is, just from hearing his voice. “I know that’s not entirely fair to you because Tina told you—“

“It wasn’t just what Tina said,” Kurt blurts, not entirely sure if that’s the truth or not.  _ Well he  _ is _ the reason you completely blew up at your best friend of over a decade. You were just waiting for a reason to come running back to him, weren’t you? _

No. Of course not. That would imply he cares about Blaine,or that Blaine is someone who matters to him. He likes Blaine. As a person, as a mark that isn’t completely intolerable. That’s  _ it _ .

“Oh...” Blaine mumbles disappointedly. 

“I just mean,” Kurt scrambles, struggling to find the words. More than that, he’s struggling to differentiate between reality and facade with every half-lie that escapes his lips. “I needed some space to figure my feelings out.”

“Well, did you?”

_ No...  _

Kurt stays silently pensive, an uncertainty like he’s never felt before clouding his judgement. For every con before Blaine, he had been so prepared, so damn sure of every move he made. Now, he’s not sure about anything.

“Look, Chris.” Blaine starts, breaking the stark silence. “I don’t have a problem with you taking time to figure things out... I just would have liked to be a part of that conversation.”

“I know,” Kurt responds guiltily, lamely unable to come up with anything else.

“I suppose I should have seen this coming. I mean, I’ve pretty much been in love with you since we met but...” He lets out a laugh laced with a hint of bitterness. “To you I’m just some overly attached stranger.”

Kurt automatically reaches for his hands, further blurring the line between the truth and the con. “You’re not just some stranger to me.”

“Do you mean that?”

Blaine’s looking up at him with these eyes that are whiskey warm as they are honest, and Kurt wants nothing more than to lie to him, but he just  _ can’t _ .

“Yeah, I do.”

Blaine’s mouth upturns and his eyes soften. “Prove it.”

Kurt feels the muscles in his shoulders relax, any tension immediately dissolving. The thought of the man sitting across the table being upset or disappointed in him makes his chest feel hollow, so relief comes flooding in when Kurt realizes he’s not.

“What do I need to do to prove my loyalty to you?” He banters, glad to have their usual playfulness back.

Blaine tosses his head in the direction of the stage. “Sing with me?”

A startled laugh bursts out of his mouth. “Anything but that.”

“Oh, come on, you auditioned for NYADA, you were in glee club. I’ve been dying to hear your singing voice since I found that out about you!”

He shakes his head. “It’s just... it’s been a really long time.”

Blaine leans his body across the bar and— _ god dammit those eyes may just be my biggest weakness _ . “Come on,” he says lowly in a way so innocent that he can’t possibly know what he’s doing to Kurt. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. It dawns on him that he’s the one who’s supposed to have a hold on Blaine—not the other way around. So he collects himself and disregards his aversion to performing again. So what if he hasn’t sung in years, business is business. That’s all Blaine is to him, his ticket to life anywhere but behind bars. At least, that’s all he can let him be.

He feigns giving in reluctantly and heads over to the stage, Blaine enthusiastically following him to the band.

“What are we singing?” Kurt asks.

“You’ll see.” Blaine smirks at him. “Based on your reaction to Tim McGraw, I’m sure you know this one.”

Kurt can’t hold back a coquettish laugh when Blaine sends a playful wink his way right as the music starts and he comes in.

**Livin' my life in a slow hell  
** **Different girl every night at the hotel  
** **I ain't seen the sun shine in 3 damn days  
** **Been fuelin' up on cocaine and whisky  
** **Wish I had a good girl to miss me  
** **Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways  
** **I put your picture away  
** **Sat down and cried today  
** **I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to her**

Kurt finds himself smiling despite the grim story the lyrics tell.

_ I called you last night in the hotel  
_ _ Everyone knows but they won't tell  
_ _ But their half hearted smiles tell me  
_ _ Somethin' just ain't right  
_ _ I been waitin' on you for a long time  
_ _ Fuelin' up on heartaches and cheap wine  
_ _ I ain't heard from you in 3 damn nights  
_ _ I put your picture away  
_ _ I wonder where you been  
_ __ I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

_ I saw you yesterday with an old friend  
_ **It was the same old same "how have you been"?  
** ** _Since you been gone my world’s been dark & grey_ **

**You reminded me of brighter days  
** _ I hoped you were coming home to stay  
_ __ I was headed to church  
**I was off to drink you away**

** _I thought about you for a long time  
_ ** ** _Can't seem to get you off my mind  
_ ** ** _I can't understand why we're living life this way  
_ ** ** _I found your picture today  
_ ** ** _I swear I'll change my ways  
_ ** ** _I just called to say I want you to come back home  
_ ** ** _I found your picture today  
_ ** ** _I swear I'll change my ways  
_ ** ** _I just called to say I want you to come back home  
_ ** **** _I just called to say I love you come back home_

“You have a really lovely voice,” Blaine says airily as soon as the song’s over.

Kurt laughs, following Blaine back to the bar. “And  _ you _ have a strange affinity for dark and depressing songs.”

Blaine holds his hand to his chest in mock astonishment while they make their way back to the bar. “I do not!”

“ _ And So It Goes?  _ Depressing.  _ Picture? _ ” He lists off the pieces. “A song about two people cheating on each other and being sad about it. Depressing.”

“You’re missing the whole point of the song!” 

Blaine argues with a passion that Kurt just absolutely adores. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to combat Blaine on his lofty viewpoint of the world, because he knows the other man will easily and eagerly go on and on about it. 

“Yeah, they messed up,” he continues. “But it’s more than that. The song is really about two people being drawn back to each other over and over again, despite it all. They want to fix things. They want to come back home... Besides, sometimes songs aren’t always about the words alone. It’s about the emotion the combination of them, the melody, and the harmonies can evoke.”

Kurt stares in genuine amazement. “How do you  _ do _ that?”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks innocuously. 

“That.” Kurt can’t keep back a laugh. “You can take the darkest, gloomiest, most heart wrenching thing, and manage to wring something good and beautiful out of it.” 

It comes as a surprise, how easy the truth slides off his tongue. Lying is all he’s known for so long that it’s become easier than telling the truth, yet here he is, being  _ honest _ of all things. 

“I just love that about you,” Kurt finally adds, aloofly fiddling with his straw.

A wild smile breaks Blaine’s face.

Kurt meets his gaze, unsure what warranted that reaction. “What?” he asks, cocking his head slightly.

As excited he is to be making progress, Blaine doesn’t want to scare him off by bringing attention to it. “Nothing,” he mumbles quietly as he leans over and presses his lips gently to Kurt’s, same goofy smile on his face. 

It comes so easily and naturally. A gentle and unsuspectingly chaste kiss that resembles one shared by a couple that has been together for years. It takes Kurt a while to remember he’s only known Blaine for less than three weeks.

“Okay,” Blaine starts, pulling away, much to Kurt’s dismay. “No quote unquote depressing songs. In that case, I have the least depressing, most optimistic song prepared, just for you, Chris Greer.”

“I love a good serenade,” Kurt calls after him, eyes never leaving him as Blaine heads to the stage again.

Electric guitar strumming begins and Blaine whirls around dramatically as he comes in, receiving a well earned laugh from Kurt.

**While everybody else is getting out of bed  
** **I'm usually getting in it  
** **I'm not in it to win it  
** **And there's a thousand ways you can skin it**

**My feet have been on the floor  
** **Flat like an idle singer  
** **Remember Winger  
** **I digress  
** **I confess you are the best thing in my life**

Kurt blissfully watches as the other man dances around on the stage like a child on a playground. He could do this all night, just sit here drinking and watch Blaine perform.  _ Screw all night, I could do this for the rest of my life and be happy. _

**But I'm afraid when I hear stories  
** **About husband and wife  
** **There's no happy endings  
** **No Henry Lee  
** **But you are the greatest thing about me**

Despite his best efforts, he lets himself indulge in the lofty thoughts.  _ How could I not? Look at him on that stage, nobody could resist someone that charming. _

**We can travel to Spain  
** **where the rain falls mainly on the plain  
** **Sounds insane  
** **'cause it is we can laugh we can sing  
** **Have ten kids and give them everything**

**Hold our cell phones up in the air  
** **And just be glad that we made it here alive  
** **On a spinning ball in the middle of space  
** **I love you from your toes to your face**

_ You could have this—exactly  _ this _ —with Blaine, if you wanted it. You know he wants it, do you? _

**If it's love  
** **And we decide that it's forever  
** **No one else could do it better  
** **If it's love  
** **And we're two birds of a feather  
** **Then the rest is just whatever  
** **And if I'm addicted to loving you  
** **And you're addicted to my love too  
** **We can be them two birds of a feather  
** **That flock together  
** **Love, love  
** **Got to have something to keep us together  
** **Love, Love  
** **That's enough for me**

Kurt finds the title of the song cycling over and over again in his mind.  _ If It’s Love _ . And suddenly his brain supplies:  _ Is it?  _

It catches him so off guard, snapping him back to reality where love doesn’t exist. He actually gasps, feeling a bit too dramatic (even for him) when it happens. He might’ve let himself get carried away with everything else, but why is he questioning  _ that _ ? Of course it’s not love.

**You can move in  
** **I won't ask where you've been  
** **'cause everybody has a past  
** **When we're older  
** **We'll do it all over again**

Love is what he has with his dad: someone who was willing to fight for his right to date whoever he wanted, someone who gave him the courage to get through life being himself, someone who accepted him exactly the way he was—flaws and all. 

Love is gone, now. He can’t find that again. What he has with Blaine is  _ not _ love.

And if it is, it’s nothing more than another opportunity to get hurt.

**When everybody else is getting out of bed  
** **I'm usually getting in it  
** **I'm not in it to win it  
** **I'm in it for you**

Blaine’s goofy demeanor is abruptly gone, and he’s staring intently, directly at Kurt. He realizes with a certain amount of dread that if he doesn’t love Blaine... he, at the very least, is fond of him.

It’s not his fault, though. Blaine is—objectively. Completely  _ objectively _ —the most handsome and charming person he’s ever met.

**If it's love  
** **And we decide that it's forever  
** **No one else could do it better  
** **And if I'm addicted to loving you  
** **And you're addicted to my love too  
** **We can be them two birds of a feather  
** **That flock together**

He’s grown attached. That’s all it can be, because if it’s not, if he  _ does  _ have feelings for Blaine, it’s something he hasn’t dealt with since a lifetime ago.

It’s all suddenly too much. Too overwhelming, and making his eyes water for  _ whatever _ fucking reason. God, he has  _ got _ to deal with his shit one of these days, but certainly not tonight.

**Love, love  
** **Got to have something to keep us together  
** **Love, love  
** **That's enough for me**

The song’s over just as Kurt realizes he can’t take anymore of this. He needs some goddamned fresh air. He needs to get away from all of... whatever the  _ hell _ this is.

He suddenly stands up, nearly knocking his chair and drink over. “Fuck, shit,” he scrambles to try and fix them both upright. When he whirls around he sees Blaine hopping off the stage, a concerned expression gracing his face.

“Chris? Are you okay?”

_ Yes. No. I don’t know. _

He opens his mouth to answer but no sound comes out of his mouth. Blaine is coming towards him, and he’s not ready for this conversation, not ready to tell Blaine that he cares about him. Hell, he’s not ready to admit that to himself, he’s not fucking ready for  _ any of this. _

Kurt hasn’t known how to deal with his emotions for quite some time now, but there is one thing he’s gotten pretty damn good at over the years: running. 

So he wordlessly and hastily breaks for the door, leaving Blaine clueless and alone once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: third time’s the charm? Lol (pls keep reading I promise third time IS the charm and the next chapter (and the one after that) are kind of big ones!!!!! (Literally))


	9. Dead and Damaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A very special shoutout and Happy Birthday to my awesome beta Adri! She made this chapter like, a million times better and also is a wonderful person to have in your life, 10/10 would recommend
> 
> Chapter Warnings:   
Minor Character Death (like a mild description of a dead body, like nothing too graphic but STILL if that freaks you out I’ll tell you who it is at the end just skip the first scene)  
Unwanted Advances (this might be a stretch but I’m just cautious)  
Mention of Minor Character Death

When Rachel opens the door to her suite to let Dustin in, she’s certain her eyes resemble those of Stoner Brett’s—red and puffy from crying them out for hours. Her best friend’s words had cut her quite deep, the reminder of her ex-fiancé’s fleet still like a fresh wound. 

She had immediately called Goolsby over as soon as Kurt left, pushing all her anger and hurt down and crystallizing it into a determination that would just make her shine even brighter than she was sure she already did. 

She was about to break her own damn record tonight, then Kurt would see that not only was she the better conman, but he needed her expertise and guidance.

“My Dust Bunny,” she says tearily, placing a hand to her heart. “Come in, sit down... I have news.”

“Megan,” he starts worriedly, following her to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She swallows dramatically, tapping into her recent fight with Kurt to fish out the proper emotions for this scene. “Everybody has secrets. Even me, your perfect dream girl.” She sobs histrionically and buries her face into his chest, clutching his shirt. “Turns out I’m not so perfect,” she whines, lets the tears fall, selling it for a few more seconds, then lifts her head up. “I’m... I’m Canadian.”

Goolsby just cocks his head to the side in confusion, staring blankly back at her.

“And my work visa is up.” She explains, still only receiving dim eyes in response. Her face falters for a second, annoyed at how the lights always seem to be on with Dustin, but nobody’s ever home. “I’m being deported.”

It finally clicks. Thank god. If she has to wait another second for him to figure this out, she might just kill him out of frustration.

He sits back on the bed frame in shock. “What a bummer,” is all he responds with, and Rachel fights back the strong urge to smack him upside the head. He faces her, pulling out a small jewelry box from his pocket. “I was going to ask you to marry me, but if you’re getting deported, I guess there’s no point.”

Her jaw meets the floor as he opens the box to reveal a huge engagement ring, glittering like a thousand stars were compacted into that one rock.

She shakes her head at him, head reeling from the sight. “Dustin!” she cries. “This is it! If you and I get married, I can stay in the states!”

His face lights up, and she might even feel sorry for the poor old bastard if he wasn’t such an idiot and a creep who was still very obviously interested in taking her best friend to bed.

“Really? In that case... Megan Roland, will you mar—“

“Yes,” she squeals. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dust Bunny! I love you so much!” She takes his face in her hands and braces herself for the stomach churning taste of cigarette smoke that seems to be permanently ingrained in the old man’s mouth.

“Let's make love,” he whispers.

Rachel has to suppress a small volume of vomit from rising up her throat. “Oh honey,” she starts. “You know how badly I want to, but... it wouldn’t be right. God wouldn’t approve, not until we’re married.”

“It’s all the same in the eyes of the lord,” he responds, pinning her to the bed with another ashtray flavored kiss that she grimaces against.

This is not how she’d planned things at all, but Dustin clearly won’t accept the whole waiting for marriage coup anymore, and in this life, you’ve got to learn to roll with the punches.

“You’re absolutely right.” She mocks breathlessness. She reaches down between them and starts unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees. “We can’t have penetrative sex yet, but there are a few things we can do and... I just can’t control myself around you.”

“Thank god,” he groans, eyes going white as they roll back into his head.

Rachel prepares herself for the obscene thing she’s about to do with a reassuring breath.

Maybe it’s all the smoking, maybe it’s because Dustin Goolsby is approaching eighty, maybe it’s the fact that he still eats a burger a day even at his age, or that he doesn’t have a regular exercise regimen. Whatever the reason, when she reaches between them and places her hand on Goolsby’s crotch, he immediately begins twitching, choking on a word that never even makes it out of his mouth.

For a moment, Rachel thinks he might actually be having an orgasm and is astounded. He goes completely still for a millisecond, before collapsing on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

She blinks, unsure of what the hell just happened. 

“Dust Bunny?” she calls out to the unconscious man. She tries to pull her arm out from under him, but finds herself stuck. “Dust Bunny, I can't move, you’re too heavy...”

She tries to nudge him off of her to no avail. Just her fucking luck.

“Motherfucker,” she hisses. She grabs his head—now buried in her chest—and lifts it in an attempt to wake him, a blood curdling scream escaping her lips when she’s met with his slack jaw and wide eyes.

He’s dead. He’s fucking  _ dead _ and she’s pinned down to the bed by a  _ dead fucking body, _ one hand still by his nether regions.

Dread sets itself way down deep into her as she remembers hanging the  _ Do Not Disturb _ sign on the outside of the suite just before Goolsby arrived. Nobody would be coming by soon. At least, nobody unexpected. 

If she hadn’t thoroughly pissed off her best friend, maybe he’d be coming back soon, but Rachel knows that when Kurt’s mad at her, he makes it a point to actively ignore her as best he can. It’s nothing but wishful thinking to expect him through that door before the night is up.

She’s so fucked. She’s here, alone, trapped under a dead body, with no form of communication—

Then it hits her. She suddenly remembers plugging in her phone to charge on the nightstand next to the bed just before Goolsby came in.

She angles her head towards the stand, waves of relief washing over her when she sees the cord. She reaches out to it, her short arms barely making it across the king sized mattress. 

She can’t entirely see, but she does eventually feel the smoothness of the cord wrap around her fingers. Gently tugging on it, she inches the phone towards her.

“Oh thank god,” she exhales when she finally reaches the phone. She quickly types out Kurt’s number and puts the phone to her ear.

He doesn’t answer.

She’s  _ so  _ fucked.

* * *

“Chris!”

Kurt keeps walking to the shoreline.  _ Dammit _ . He should’ve known Blaine would come chasing after him, he always does. 

“I thought we were done with this whole leaving without warning thing.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, one Kurt knows he deserves to be hearing and has no idea why it hurts to do so.

Kurt drops down on the ground, hugging his knees.

“Sorry,” he starts, hoping Blaine doesn’t notice him quickly wiping at his eyes. 

He does. 

“Megan is driving me crazy. She wouldn’t stop calling me...” he looks up into Blaine’s eyes and immediately averts his own. “I got a little overwhelmed.” 

It’s a half truth. Because what Kurt means to say is:  _ You overwhelm me. _

Blaine seems to understand.

“You said you don’t believe in love.” He starts, following suit and taking a seat on the sand. “Why not?”

Kurt feels the lump in his throat already forming as the memories resurface. He hasn’t said it out loud in nine years, so he has no idea what compels him to start talking now. But he does.

“Have you ever lost something that you thought would be forever?” he chokes out. He can feel his bottom lip trembling and he feels so damn  _ weak _ . “Maybe not forever, per se, but at least a hell of a lot longer than you got...”

Blaine shakes his head, never ripping his gaze from Kurt. “What was his name?”

His heart feels like it’s being squeezed and he can’t breathe. Nine fucking years and it still hurts like it was yesterday.

“Burt...” he finally says, voice cracking. “My dad.”

Blaine knits his eyebrows in mild, non judgmental confusion.

“I... I was engaged once.” Kurt finally says, breaking the silence. “To this guy I had been dating for three years. Something Borrowed guy. It was the year after I graduated high school and we were probably too young—nineteen. But same sex marriage had just been legalized nationwide and we were young and “in love”,” he uses air quotes and spits out the words. 

“My dad was the most important thing in the world to me. He supported me and gave me strength I didn’t realize I had. Even when Sebastian proposed. He didn’t agree because he, like a lot of other people, thought we were too young. But he supported my decision nonetheless. I couldn’t have asked for a better father...

“It was three days before the wedding and I guess Sebastian had gotten cold feet because he’d been MIA for a few days. Nobody could get a hold of him. Not even me... My dad was so helpful, driving around day and night to try and find him. One night, he finally found him at some bar...” He sucks in a breath and can’t keep the sob out of his throat. “With his tongue down someone else’s throat. Engagement ring still on.

“My dad pulled him off of the other guy and yelled at him, then called me to tell me what happened... and that’s all I know for sure. I-I don’t even fucking know how Sebastian got behind the wheel of my dad’s car, or what happened... All I know is when they called me to the crash scene, my dad was... he—“ Kurt’s chest starts heaving, caught somewhere between inhaling and exhaling but unable to fully do either. Blaine reaches over to grip Kurt’s hand tightly and suddenly he can breathe again, finally able to get the words out that he hasn’t even been able to think for years. “He was  _ gone _ , Blaine... just like my mom. And Sebastian... he was nowhere to be found. He fled the scene and never contacted me again... didn’t even bother to show up to the funeral.”

He finally faces Blaine, who has tears of his own rolling down his face. “If my own fiancé had really  _ loved _ me, he wouldn’t have left me when I needed him the most. He wouldn’t have cheated on me. He wouldn’t have driven when he knew he was too drunk and put my dad in danger like that.” His voice rises and his chest heaves with the combination of unbearable grief and unresolved anger.

Blaine doesn’t say a word, just pulls the other man into his arms and holds him close. Kurt digs his face into Blaine’s chest and lets out a monsoon of emotions he hadn’t even known he’d been holding onto.

The curly haired man just gently caresses Kurt’s back, allowing him to fall apart in a way that he hasn’t let himself in years.

A few moments later, Kurt finally retracts himself from Blaine’s comforting grasp, the reality of their situation crashing down on him. He’s treated Blaine awfully, and yet, here Blaine is, comforting him when he needed it the most. He doesn’t  _ get  _ it. 

He doesn’t get why time and time again, Blaine comes chasing after someone as damaged as Kurt, or why he puts up with all of Kurt’s indecisiveness. But mostly, he can’t comprehend why Blaine continues to make every effort to get to know him _ .  _ Not Chris, who was so composed and put together when his car “broke down”, but  _ Kurt _ , who absolutely breaks down into pieces on the beachfront after hearing a Train song.

“Tina was right.” Kurt shakes his head. “I’m toxic. I’m all sorts of fucked up. I don’t know what I want, or how I feel and I can be so cynical and  _ awful _ . And you...” he looks at Blaine in genuine awe. “You’re so kind and generous a-and honest... I don’t understand why you’re so interested in  _ me _ .” 

Blaine just looks back at him with the most sincere hazel eyes he’s ever seen and finally breaks his vigilant silence.

“Because you’re worth getting to know.”

That’s all it takes. 

Before Kurt can stop himself, he practically lunges at the other man, pinning him against the sand and crashing their lips together.

He shuts his brain off and starts acting on instinct, pure desire buzzing throughout his body.

Blaine tangles his hand in Kurt’s hair and he doesn’t even mind that it’ll be ruined because it’s just so  _ wonderful _ . It’s been ages since he’s kissed anybody like this, and possibly never since he’s  _ been _ kissed like this.

Blaine gently scrapes his teeth against Kurt’s bottom lip before opening his mouth again. Kurt rolls his hips down against the other man’s pelvis experimentally, heart skipping a beat when Blaine moans into his mouth in return. 

God, he loves that. Loves how responsive Blaine is, loves the way their bodies press against each other, chests heaving in time. Loves the heat of Blaine's hands on his neck, his lips on Kurt's mouth, the hot, sweet breath fanning out across his face. He loves how good and natural it feels to be in Blaine's arms, to hold his body close and be held close. Their lips move together, chasing one another in a race neither man will lose, growing faster and more desperate the longer they let the moment go on. The pressure and heat between their moving hips keeps mounting, and Kurt loves how easy and right and perfect it all feels. He loves—

_ Nothing _ . 

He doesn’t love anyone—doesn’t  _ need  _ anyone, especially not Blaine.

Perhaps he’s grown attached, but that’s a long way from love because he just gave an entire fucking thesis statement on why love doesn’t exist and he _ doesn’t love Blaine god dammit _ .

He  _ can’t _ love Blaine... Not without opening himself up to a world of heartache that he is not prepared to jump back into.

His eyes shoot open and he scrambles up, leaving Blaine dazed against the sand, face flushed and lips still pink.

“Fuck,” he mutters, angrily dusting sand off his pants. “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck!”  _ He runs his hands through his hair and starts making his way towards the parking lot, all too aware of Blaine trailing close behind. “This is against every rule, every single one!” He shouts, mostly just berating himself.

“What rule?” Blaine shouts back, scrambling up to his feet and following Kurt the way he always does and absolutely shouldn’t. “Not falling in love?” 

Kurt makes it to his car, rips open the door, and climbs into the driver’s seat, doing his best to get away while Blaine grabs onto the open window desperately. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me,” he demands.

Kurt does just that. “I don’t love you.” The words roll off his tongue with a practiced ease, even though saying them makes his heart clench.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Blaine responds, staring fiercely into Kurt’s eyes.

“That’s just the thing...” he looks up at Blaine sadly, pressing a hand to his cheek before he can stop himself. “I’m a fantastic liar.”

_ Why the hell did I just say that? _ Something about Blaine’s earnestness is immensely contagious, and the more time Kurt spends with him, the more he finds the truth coming out whether or not he wants it to. He keeps telling himself that he doesn’t know why he does certain things around Blaine, but on some level, maybe Kurt  _ does  _ know why. It’s the same reason he was so secretly excited when Blaine showed up by the riverwalk, the same reason he couldn’t help but kiss Blaine not five minutes ago.

A succession of vibrations comes from Kurt’s pocket and interrupts his thoughts. He slips his phone out, ready to yell at Rachel to fuck off.

**New Message:  
** **From: Rachel **

_ Kurt  _

_ Please answer me _

_ I’m so sorry about what happened _

_ I need you _

_ I’m in trouble  _

“Holy shit...” His eyes widen as he scans the messages that keep blinking up on his phone’s lock screen. He looks back up at Blaine with bushbaby eyes, wide and frightened. “I have to go.”

“Don’t—“

“It’s—it’s not about you, I promise,” he says. Truthfully, he was just on the verge of staying because if Blaine had asked him one more time, he likely wouldn’t have been able to say no. “I just really have to go.” The ignition starts up as he turns the key and the car lurches forward. 

He slams on the brakes when Blaine blocks his path, pressing his hands down on the hood of the car.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

“I’m not letting you go until you promise that I’ll see you again!”

“Blaine—“

“Promise me,” he breathes. “And I’ll get out of your way.”

Kurt doesn’t want to promise him anything, not because he thinks it’s one he’ll break, but because he’s sure it’s a vow he won’t be able to help but keep.

He really needs to get to Rachel right now.

He swallows, terrified. “I promise. Tomorrow.” He exhales, and Blaine relents, lifting his hands up and stepping to the side. 

“One more thing,” Blaine adds, heading back to Kurt’s side of the car.

“Wha—“ Kurt doesn’t even have time to get a full sentence out before Blaine is grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him passionately, much less set up his defenses. 

Blaine finally pulls away. “Tomorrow?” he asks with wide and expectant eyes, like he knows Kurt can’t say no after a kiss like that.

After staring breathlessly at Blaine for a few moments, lips still tingling, Kurt realizes that Blaine is waiting for an answer. He swallows and nods. “Tomorrow.”

* * *

As soon as Blaine walks back into the bar he’s greeted with a very supportive, “I told you. He’s nothing but trouble.”

“I love him.” He says simply. 

Tina scoffs. “I know you _think_ you’re in love with him, but once you’re out of the honeymoon phase, I promise you—“

“I think I’m gonna marry him.”

Her jaw drops and eyebrows spring up simultaneously. “You don’t even  _ know _ him.”

“I know how he makes me feel. I know I won’t ever find that again if I let him go.”

“Blaine, I’ve let you do a lot of crazy shit for this guy, but I’m not letting you fucking propose to him!”

He doesn’t argue with her, just calmly adds, “My parents knew each other for three weeks before my dad proposed, did you know that? They were together for over sixty years.” He looks at her. “Why is this any different?”

She just stares back at him in utter disbelief. 

“I know what I’m doing, T. He’s  _ it _ for me. He might be scared, but I’m not. I’m done looking for the rest of my life because I know I’ve found it with him.” He sighs. “If that makes me crazy, then so be it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Anyways, I think the next chapter is my absolutely FAVORITE chapter so far lol so if you’re still reading pls stay tuned!
> 
> Oof almost forgot:  
If you skipped the first scene for triggers basically all you need to know is that Rachel was about to have some sexy times with Old Man Goolsby when he uh… died. And now she’s trapped underneath his dead body
> 
> As always thanks for reading and commenting and overall just being a part of the greatest fandom alive!!!


	10. Begin Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think this chapter is gonna be pretty long bc it was already the longest one (so far?) and then I decided to move the first scene of the next chapter to the last scene of this chapter bc I just felt it flowed better. Sooooo that’s my explanation lol 
> 
> Edit: okay yeah this chapter is HELLA long, but I really don’t want to break it up bc it all kind of goes together. It’s still kind of fast paced, so I hope it doesn’t drag too much sorry in advance if it does!
> 
> DOUBLE EDIT: Sorry this is so late. I had another competition today and just got home. Also, just as a heads up I won't be posting next week because I've been super overwhelmed recently and I just need some time to breathe/catch up because everything is crazy and I'm supposed to be getting observed next week as well. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings:   
Gun usage   
Desecration of a dead body
> 
> hardly any of either of these but again, I'm cautious.

Finn looks up at the neon glow of the hotel sign. 

_ Bayview Resort. _

He’d finally made it. Many weeks had gone by without so much as a whisper in the wind, but about two days ago he’d gotten a call about suspicious activity on one of his credit cards. The purchase had come from somewhere in New York and Finn immediately knew it must somehow be connected to his ex-wife. She’d always talked about New York and how she would love to live there one day. After making that startling revelation, he’d booked the first flight out he could find. He’d lost her once, but now... he plans on winning her back.

He heads into the hotel with a burning determination, taken aback by the grandiose lobby when he finally bursts through the doors. 

There’s no time to marvel at the fanciness of it all though, he needs to find Lisa as soon as possible so he can explain everything to her—even if she wouldn’t listen the first time, he’d make her listen.

He freezes in his tracks when he realizes... he doesn’t really know where the hell he’s going. 

Luckily, a bellhop passes him by. Finn reaches out for him to grab his attention. “Hey!” The bellhop stops and turns towards him. “Do you know where I can find this girl?” He digs his phone out of his pocket and flashes him a picture of his ex (and future) wife.

He just looks at Finn with an almost bored expression. “Tips are customary here at the Bayview.”

Finn immediately pulls out his wallet, fishing out a dollar bill and handing it to the employee.

The bellhop looks at down at the bill then back up at Finn condescendingly.  _ Right. _ This is the Hamptons. 

He passes the bellhop a five this time, earning another ridiculed look.

“Really?” Finn huffs, then digs out a twenty from his pocket and slaps it into the bellhop’s hand.

“22B,” he answers almost immediately and without further ado, pushes his cart down the hall.

Finn repeats the number in his head over and over again like a mantra as he heads up the elevator and down the hallway.

_ 22B, 22B, 22B... _

22B. There it is, the only thing standing between him and happiness, a simple wooden door.

He takes a deep breath and reaches for the handle, pausing to take note of the  _ Do Not Disturb _ sign. His ears perk up and he can suddenly hear what sounds like very faint moaning coming from inside the hotel room.

His stomach drops. Someone is in there. With  _ his _ wife.

He barges in to hear the woman he married moaning out. “Oh my god... oh my  _ god! _ I can’t believe this is happening...” she whines.

“Stay away from my ex and also future wife!”

When Rachel sees Finn (or at least parts of him, as Goolsby is still blocking most of her view) a wide array of emotions pass through her, but she’s mostly wondering what the hell he’s doing here.

“Finn!? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here to win you back,” he says, digging out a small metal object from his pants and pointing it at Goolsby’s body.

“Is that a fucking gun!?” she gasps.  _ “Why the fuck do you have a gun!?” _

“Because I love you, Lisa! And I’m not letting you go without a fight, and I’m definitely not letting some sleazeball have his way with you!” 

“I need a real answer!”

The tall man just shrugs. “I-I don’t know, if I’m being honest. My buddy from high school is in the air force now and says that chicks dig firepower so he lent me this when I said I wanted to win you back and well, here we are!”

She groans at the utter chaos of it all. “Put the gun down Finn, he’s already dead!”

He blanches. “What!? Oh, shit... Lis, if you were into that you should’ve just said—“

“Will you shut the  _ fuck  _ up and get this thing off of me!?”

He nods quickly, rushing over to get the dead body off of her. He freezes, suddenly eyeing her suspiciously. “Why do you have a dead body in the first place, Lis?”

_ Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck this _ , she thinks.

“I... he’s a Broadway legend,” she starts, sighing dramatically. “I ran into him downstairs and he said he could come upstairs and sign some shirts of mine but then...” she wells up into crocodile tears. “He tried to force himself on me and I hit him and he just died, Finn!”

“Oh my god, Lisa... I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, but every second spent trapped underneath him is a second reliving the horrible thing he tried to do to me.”

He nods and rolls Goolsby’s body off of her to the other side of her bed. It sinks into the mattress with a soft thud and a squeak.

Finn stares. “We have to call the cops.”

“No!” Rachel replies fervently as she sits up a little too quickly, struggling to adjust to finally being free from the literal dead weight. The comedic sight earns a concerned glance from Finn. “I-I-I just mean... I never told you, but I’m Canadian,” she starts, spinning off from her earlier lie. “And my visa’s expired, so if we call the cops, I’ll get deported.” She moves to cup his cheek, but a glimmer on her hand catches his eye. “And then we can never be together...”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Lisa... is that... is that an engagement ring on your finger?”

Shit.

She swallows and her eyes widen almost unnoticeably. “No,“ she squeaks, but Finn knows an engagement ring when he sees one. He did buy one for her after all.

“Wait a second,” Finn interrupts her, shaking his head as the dots connect. “Was this old dude your  _ fiancé?” _

“O-Of course not!” She stammers, digging herself into an even deeper hole. She’s only denying his accusations, but doesn’t have anything planned to back herself up. She wishes Kurt were here with her. He was always good at that and their fight seems so stupid compared to the mess she’s in now.

As if things couldn’t be any more chaotic, the door suddenly swings open and Kurt hurries in frantically. “All right Rachel, where’s this dead body of yours?”

Finn whips his head towards him and Kurt’s stomach feels like it’s fallen right through the floor, straight to the core of the earth.

“Kyle!?”

“Shit,” Kurt mutters. He feels like he’s been saying that word a lot lately. More like stepping in it, really.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” Finn takes a step back and looks between the two of them before pointing a finger at her. “You said you never wanted to see his face again?” It starts as a statement but comes out more like a question, because Finn’s head is spinning and he can’t tell up from down at this point.

Kurt’s head starts racing for an out, the way it always does, the way it did with Blaine not an hour ago because he lo—shit, he really can  _ not _ afford to be distracted by thoughts of Blaine right now. Not when an old mark is in their suite with a fucking gun in his hand.

He finally decides on a lie he’s sure will suffice. Finn was never the sharpest tool in the shed, anyway.

“After what happened, I tracked down—“ he blanks for a moment, panic surging in when he can’t remember Rachel’s alias from Finn’s con. 

From behind Finn, Rachel mouths  _ Lisa _ to Kurt. His eyes shift towards her and he gives a tiny nod in thanks.

“Lisa. I realized I needed to apologize. So I did, and we got to talking. We realized we have a lot in common. To make up for making a move on you I invited her to stay with me on my vacation.”

Kurt is making a remarkably valiant effort, but Finn is absolutely not buying it.

He just shakes his head, suddenly remembering something from a mere moments ago. “Why did you call her Rachel?”

A tense silence is suspended between the three of them for a split second before Rachel makes the quick decision to chuck her phone at Finn’s head and screams out, “Run, Kurt!”

While Finn hisses and clutches his head in pain, Kurt makes a break for the door, already brainstorming on how he’s going to come back and save Rachel from this mess.

Before he can even reach the exit though, he feels a sharp stinging pain against his head and falls to the floor. “Fuck!” He cries out and touches the area to check for blood. Luckily, there’s none, but he still glares up at Finn. “Did you just fucking pistol whip me?”

“You guys attacked me first!” He gestures carelessly to Rachel, gun still in hand, and she lets out a shriek as she ducks behind the bed. “Now, I’m warning you,” he turns to face Kurt again. “I have a gun and I have no idea how to use it! I want answers and I want them now!”

“Finny-Bear,” Rachel tries, but he’s not having it. 

“Don’t...” he whips around to her again. “I’m about to start asking questions, and like I said... I want answers.

She huffs, her entire demeanor shifting when she finally lets down her facade, lips pursed, arms crossed, and an eyebrow cocked. “Shoot.”

“Poor choice of words,” Kurt grumbles.

“Let's start with names,” Finn grunts. “Rachel...” he looks her up and down with a trace of sadness on his face. Kurt almost feels sorry for him because he’s seen the exact same expression on Blaine’s face and— _ dammit _ . There it is again, the fatal inability to shake Blaine from his head. “And I suppose you must be Kurt.”

_ Thanks for that, Rach. _

They both nod in submission, finally cornered into telling the truth.

“Did you know each other before you met me?”

Another set of nods.

Finn wouldn’t consider himself a particularly smart person, but even the dumbest person he knew could piece together what happened here. “You... you guys played me.”

Kurt has to remember to bite his tongue and keep from saying  _ No shit, Sherlock _ because the man in front of him could quite literally kill him if he wanted to.

“We’re sorry,” Rachel says unconvincingly. So unconvincingly, in fact, that it almost sounds like a question. 

“I really don’t think you are... I should turn you in to the police!” He yells. “I have your names and you two are hiding a dead body!”

“You don’t wanna do that.” Rachel says seriously.

“Why not?”

“Because then you’ll never get your money back.”

“Rachel!” Kurt sends a panicked glare her way, knowing very well they don’t have the money to reimburse him.

She only responds with the most remorseful countenance he’s ever seen on her. “I’m so sorry, Kurt.”

His face falls and he doesn’t know what he’s angry about yet, but based on her reaction he knows he’s going to be fuming about something within the next ten seconds. “What do you mean? Sorry for what?”

She looks so pitiful that Kurt would probably feel sorry for her if he didn’t know her well enough to know that she’s been stewing around in her own guilt for a while now.

“There is no IRS…” she blubbers after a still moment of silence.

Kurt’s stomach drops.

“Wait, the IRS isn’t real? Are they another scam you two are involved in?”

“Shut  _ up _ , Finn!” Kurt snaps. He really shouldn’t, considering this is the guy who holds the power to send them to jail, but he’s just so damn  _ pissed _ . “You,“ he points to Rachel accusingly. “Benedict. Explain yourself.” 

A long sigh hisses out of her mouth. “Do you remember five years ago when you went back to Lima for a few days to go through your dad’s estate? I stayed in Colorado?“ 

“Yeah.“

“Well… That’s when I met Brody. We sort of had a fling—very casual, nothing serious. We’ve kept in contact over the years and when I couldn’t initially convince you to the Anderson con, I asked him to pose as an IRS agent and gave him access to our accounts so he could drain them into one I have hidden away.“

Kurt doesn’t know what the hell he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t  _ that _ .

“Rachel Berry… You are a  _ fucking psychopath! _ “ She winces, never having heard Kurt so absolutely infuriated before. “Hidden bank account!? What are we, some middle-aged couple about to get a divorce? That is such  _ bullshit!  _ Are you really so narcissistic that you couldn’t let me be anywhere else other than by your side to be your stupid little cheerleader?“

When Finn once again interrupts, Kurt has to fight the strong impulse to smack him upside the head. “Could we not use the word divorce, please? I’m still a little sensitive about that. Also, are you really that surprised she pulled a stunt like that? For crying out loud, you guys are  _ criminals!“ _

Kurt glares at him for a second, then back at her. He should have known better. Rachel Berry is not the type of girl to give up being the center of attention so easily. “I fucking trusted you.” He spits quietly at her.

“I know you’re pissed, Kurt,” she starts. “And you have every right to be. But there’s still the issue of the dead body we have to deal with.”

Christ on a fucking cracker, Kurt had nearly forgotten about that particular added layer to this already too thick shit show.

“I can help you with that,” Finn suddenly says. “If you promise you can give my money back. I’ll help you hide the body and I won’t call the cops.”

“Oh, look,” Kurt grumbles at him. “A benevolent blackmailer.”

“At least I’m not a con artist.” He snaps back, then glares at Rachel. “Or a murderer.”

Her jaw drops. “I didn’t murder Goolsby! That part was true, he really did want to sleep with me, and I was gonna give him a handy to keep him at bay and he just sort of... short circuited.”

Finn ignores her. “There’s a river down outside your window, we can just toss the body there.”

Although Goolsby wasn’t a particularly large man, it still takes all three of their combined efforts to hoist his body—now wrapped in every sheet they could find in the room—over to the balcony where Kurt had been sitting the day Blaine showed up in that ridiculous canoe.

It goes over the edge with some effort, dead legs almost smacking Kurt right across the face and eliciting a small yelp from him. Well, that’s one problem down. 

Or at least it is until Goolsby’s body misses the river completely and lands on Kurt’s fucking trunk (of all things) with a sickening crunch. All three of them flinch. 

“Honestly, fuck my life.” Kurt grumbles.

He watches from the balcony as Finn and Rachel (it had been Finn’s request to take one of them with him in hopes of keeping the other in line) head downstairs to cram the washed up actor’s dead body into Kurt’s too small trunk and drive away to go dispose of it.

An hour later, they return in a taxi cab and Kurt doesn’t even want to  _ know  _ where the hell his car ended up.

Finally the pair walks back into the room.

“We’ve decided to go to the bank tomorrow. 2 P.M.” Finn pulls a chair from the nearby kitchen area and sets it by the door, perching on it to take careful watch. “And nobody,” he glares intently at them. “Is going to leave this place on my watch.”

* * *

Kurt wakes up the next morning to a message from Blaine. His stomach churns in the best possible way and he can’t keep the smile off his face despite the chaos from last night catching up to him.

**New Message:  
** **From: Blaine Anderson  
** **Meet me here at noon-thirty?**

**Remember, you promised ;)**

**Attachment: 1 Location**

Kurt glances around the rest of the suite before quickly and quietly creeping out of his bed. Rachel is knocked out in hers and Finn apparently didn’t make good on his promise to keep a watchful eye on them because he’s fast asleep in the recliner, seemingly having abandoned his post by the door to opt for a more comfortable sleeping arrangement. Kurt tiptoes past them cautiously, taking care to keep his weight on the balls of his feet.

He chooses an outfit in record time. He wishes he could’ve spent more time cultivating the perfect one, but he can’t risk waking Finn or Rachel. That would likely mean not getting to see Blaine today, and after the night he’s had, that’s really the only thing he wants to do today.

The short walk to the Cafe happens without incident, and he’s there around twelve twenty-five. Through the giant sepia tinted window he can see that Blaine has already secured a table for them, waiting patiently as he noses through a slim novel. A smile cracks Kurt’s face. In that moment, standing outside in the warm sun and watching Blaine just  _ be  _ seems to encompass his entire world. There’s no dead body, no Finn blackmailing him, no Rachel to manipulate him—just beautifully serene Blaine.

He checks his phone to see that he’s spent seven entire minutes just staring. Shit. Now he’s fucking late. 

_ Earth to Kurt _ , he thinks to himself.  _ If you want to see him, you should probably actually go inside.  _ He does just that, struck a little breathless when Blaine picks his head up to grin at him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Kurt apologizes, and Blaine throws his head back laughing like the five year old that he secretly is.

“That’s a pretty easy offense to forgive, considering you were actually here five minutes early.” 

Kurt hides his face in his hands with shame as he takes a seat, a little flustered at being caught. “You saw that?”

“I thought it was cute.”

“Sorry,” he groans. “I just have a lot going on right now and—“ he cuts himself off at first, but eventually lifts his head and looks Blaine right in the eyes. “I got kind of lost looking at you because I knew meeting you here would just... make everything better.”

Blaine looks at Kurt with a softness in his eyes that he’s certain he doesn’t deserve. He reaches across the table and takes Kurt’s hand in his own. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kurt makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a snort. That’s the last thing he wants to do. “On the contrary,” he mutters behind his cup of coffee. “I would very much like to be distracted from the absurdity that is Ra—Megan, please.” He eyes Blaine’s open book and a smile tugs at his lips. “What’re you reading?”

“The Great Gatsby,” Blaine answers simply, happy to keep the other man distracted and still staring at him with unwarranted adoration.

Kurt gapes at him, unsure what to make of that. Is it an omen, like it was the first time? Or is it a second chance?

“I don’t remember much of it from high school,” Kurt confesses. “But something that really stuck with me was this one line:  _ The loneliest moment in someone’s life—“ _

_ “Is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly _ ,” Blaine finishes, once again astounding Kurt. It finally dawns in Kurt that Blaine isn’t Sebastian, isn’t  _ like _ Sebastian in any way. Hell, he’s not like anybody Kurt’s ever met before—so honest, and loving, and sunny. “It’s one of my favorite quotes, even if it is a bit grim.”

“Shut up,” Kurt murmurs before reaching out, cupping Blaine’s cheek, then bringing their faces together. He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows, but he doesn’t give a damn because right now all he can focus on is Blaine’s lips sliding over his own, the slight stubble on his cheek lightly scraping against his skin. Christ, if love isn’t real, Kurt’s certain he’s found something that’s pretty damn close.

When they finally pull apart, Kurt is glad to see that trademark dopey smile on Blaine’s face. He smirks, something about knowing he’s the one who put it there sending a little thrill through him.

“So,” he finally continues, taking a look around the cafe. “What’s so special about this place?”

“Billy Joel was conceived here.” Blaine says after a sip of coffee. “On this very table.”

“I think you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

“No, you are.” 

Kurt’s intestines writhe with guilt at the memory of last night and he wonders if Blaine is going to bring it up, because god knows he’s certainly not going to initiate  _ that  _ conversation.

Luckily, Blaine doesn’t mention anything. Kurt doesn’t blame him. He’s been so wishy-washy about their... relationship since they met, and he’s sure Blaine is wary of anything that might scare him off again.

“A lot of places around here like to boast that this celebrity ate here or that celebrity bought something there, but this cafe... it’s special all on its own.” Blaine finally admits with a shrug. “Kind of like you.” 

Blaine steamrolls right on with the conversation like the words he just said weren’t any big revelation, and they were just another basic fact that didn’t make Kurt’s stomach do flip flops.

“I guess that might be why my parents got engaged here.”

Kurt breaks out into a smile. “There is is.”

“What?” Blaine giggles. 

“The inevitably cheesy and ridiculously romantic history behind yet another one of your favorite locations.” Kurt smirks at him teasingly, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not planning on proposing, are you?”

Blaine just hides his grin behind his cup of coffee as he sips it, continuing his irritating (well, at this point Kurt supposes it could be classified as endearing) habit of not answering the question at hand. “So, what’s going to happen with us when you leave?” he asks instead, gently nudging the conversation back to a more serious matter.

It doesn’t click right away for Kurt, and he cocks his head to the side. “Leave?” he questions.

“Yeah, back to the city. When your sister’s retreat is over.”

_ Right. _ This is a con. Blaine is a mark, not his best friend, not the one thing he looks forward to every single day since they’ve met. Blaine is a  _ mark _ , and pretty soon Kurt’s going to have to move on to the next one.

Truthfully, Kurt’s never paid much mind to the future beyond what outfit he wants to wear the next day. How could he ever imagine to afford to, living off stolen money and broken hearts? It’s always been life one con at a time, get through this one and don’t worry about the next until it comes. 

Then it hits him. He doesn’t  _ want  _ there to be a next con, or a new mark, or a new place. He—

_ Stop it,  _ he tries telling himself, once again not letting his heart speak its mind. 

But he can’t stop it now—can’t hold back any longer—because finally, his  _ idiot _ brain has caught up to something his soul knew the moment he met Blaine..

No, Kurt has definitely never paid much mind to the future, but suddenly, the prospect of Blaine not being in his reigns in all his focus and sends a jolt of panic surging through him. That’s what does it—realizing that he can’t imagine his life without the man sitting across from him in it anymore—that’s what finally,  _ finally  _ makes him admit something he’s probably known all this time.

_ Holy shit. I love Blaine. _

Any excitement he feels is completely eclipsed by the massive wave of terror that overwhelms him. 

He loves Blaine. 

He  _ loves _ him, and that means so many things, and makes so many things suddenly very, very complicated.

Or... does it?

It dawns on him that it doesn’t have to be. He and Rachel aren’t broke after all, and that means he still has his cut of their money (even after Finn’s reimbursement). It’s definitely enough to get an apartment here for a few months.

It could even be enough to start a new life here. One with Blaine as a permanent fixture.

He’s reminded of Blaine’s presence and realizes that he has to eventually respond to what Blaine just said. He swallows, hoping to quench his woefully dry throat.

_ I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you _ , his inner voice is screaming at him to let the man sitting across the table know exactly what he’s feeling. It’s begging him to tell Blaine that he loves the way Blaine is a hopeless romantic enough for the both of them, the way he knows exactly what to do and say when even Kurt himself doesn’t know what he needs, the way he irritatingly/endearingly avoids questions Kurt’s skeptic side might not like the answers to, the way he keeps his world so much brighter than he’s used to that it’s  _ blinding  _ and that’s the reason it’s taken him so long to realize it, but he loves everything about Blaine. 

But he can’t, not yet. Not until this whole mess with Finn and Rachel is sorted out, and maybe not even then.

He  _ can _ apologize, though, for the way last night went down. He can come clean, tell Blaine  _ everything _ if he ever wants a future with him. And holy hell, does he want a future with Blaine.

“Blaine, I—“

The bell of the front door chimes, letting them know that a new set of customers have walked in, and Kurt blanches in horror when he sees Rachel and Finn walking right towards them.

_ Oh, dear god, no _ . Kurt pleads. To what or whom, he’s not even sure of.  _ No, no, no, no,  _ ** _no_ ** _ . _

“Hey, Kyle!” Finn calls out in an awkwardly honeyed voice. Rachel discreetly elbows him in the rib cage. “I mean, Chris!” He corrects himself.

They stride up to them and Kurt’s heart is beating right the fuck out of his chest. These are two separate worlds that were never,  _ ever  _ supposed to meet. Right now, Finn and Rachel are everything wrong with his life and Blaine is everything right. His only solace in a world that has gotten way too out of hand.

“Look who came to pay us a visit before my retreat is up!” Rachel says, glaring at Kurt.

Finn extends a hand to Blaine. “Nice to meet you, Blaine. I’m Ky– _ Chris’s _ cousin, Finnnnnnn—“ he stumbles for a bit, dragging out the final consonant in his name. “Ny.” He finishes. “Vinny. My name is Vinny… Chris has told me so much about you!”

“He has?” Blaine raises a teasing eyebrow at Kurt, and Kurt wonders if he can see the sheer terror on his face. He must be doing a pretty good job of hiding it because Blaine doesn’t say anything.

“Chris,” Rachel chides. “Did you forget we promised to take Vinny here to the movies at 2?”

“Silly me,” Kurt all but snarls. “How could I forget? After all, we were always so close with... Vinny.”

“We have to get going if we’re going to make that showtime,” Finn presses.

Kurt nods, hand clenching around Blaine’s just slightly. He leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Blaine’s lips before joining Finn and Rachel.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Kurt confirms. “I promise.”

_ I love you. _

* * *

Through the years, Kurt and Rachel have secured multiple bank accounts, all national chains. When he realizes that Rachel’s secret account is a local New York one he’s almost impressed with her ability to be so conniving.

He, Finn, and Rachel all stand in line, anticipation growing with each spot they move up in. Neither of them particularly trusted her enough to complete the task of transferring the money to Finn without some sort of supervision. After what felt like an eternity, they finally reach the bank teller.

“Hi,“ she greets them cheerily. “How can I help you today?“

Rachel gives her a smile that could convince probably anybody except Kurt that she’s got a heart of gold. “Hi I’m Megan Roland. My husband opened up a joint account a few weeks ago, and I’d like to make a transfer.“

“Sure thing, I’ll just need a valid ID and your access code.”

Rachel hands them over and the teller immediately starts click clicking away on her keyboard. Kurt notices she pauses and her eyebrows knit together. He wonders if Rachel pulled yet another stunt.

“I’m sorry ma’am,“ she apologizes. “It seems your husband closed the account a few days ago.“

When Rachel‘s face drains of all its color, Kurt knows this wasn’t her doing. Finn, however, clearly isn’t as quick to catch on. He storms off to a secluded corner and glares, motioning for them to follow suit.

“What the hell you guys!“ he growls at them. 

“You’re not the only one pissed off at Rachel Berry right now, Finn, so believe me when I say this isn’t her doing.“ Kurt says.

Rachel heaves a few breaths. “I-I-I don’t know what happened!” she exclaims frantically.

“I think Agent Brody happened,” Kurt muttered. 

”I’m not following,” Finn murmurs.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose. “We  _ know _ , Finn. I think an old friend of Rachel‘s drained the account.“

The tallest of the three gapes at the other two, and there’s nearly a second of silence before Finn is tossing his head backward then doubling over and bursting into a fit of hysterics. “You’re telling me—“ he manages to get a few words out between each bout of uncontrollable giggles. “That someone— stole all  _ your _ money!?“ He wipes at his eyes, teary from laughing so hard. “That’s just… totally wild, man.”

If looks could kill, Rachel and Kurt would be two of the deadliest people on the planet in that moment.

Finn just shakes his head, still smiling. “You have until Friday to come up with a solution.“ 

“But that’s only two days!“ Rachel cries. 

He shrugs. “You two make quick work. After all, it only took you six weeks to break my heart.“ 

All Kurt can do is watch helplessly as Finn walks out of the bank, taking all of Kurt’s hopes and dreams with him.

* * *

It’s been over twenty four hours and Kurt and Rachel are still completely fucked. They sit in the middle area of the suite, brainstorming ideas. 

So far, they’ve thrown out gambling (Rachel has an addictive personality), selling organs (their livers are probably tarnished from their early twenties), and prostitution—among other options.

“We could sell our cars,” Rachel offers.

Kurt shakes his head. “We took thirty grand from Finn... Your car is nearly five years old, worth less than half of that and mine is...” he shudders at the memory from a few nights ago. “God knows where the hell my car is.”

“We still have one more option...” She trails off. “Do you still have Anderson’s number?”

He freezes.

“No.” He says firmly. “Not him. We have to pick someone else.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “What? Why?”

“Because I—“ he cuts himself off.

_ Because I love him. _

The words are dancing right on the tip of his tongue, as if he’s said them a hundred times before and it’s only natural to want to say them again.

But he doesn’t. Not yet. He’ll be damned if Rachel hears his confession before Blaine does.

“Because,” he restarts after gathering himself. “You always say that you can’t con an honest man.” 

She huffs. “Yeah, they don’t exist.” 

“Well, this one does.” Her eyes widen in skeptical surprise as Kurt continues. “He’s kind and honest and open and generous, Rachel... It’s really saying something if  _ I  _ feel guilty about conning him.”

She snorts. “What, so you want to stop this con because you suddenly get a conscience after nine years?” She places her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “No.  _ You _ started this and now we’re going to finish it. You said he’s worth three million, right? A million for each of us, then we go our separate ways. It’s perfect.”

She says it like it’s a goddamn no-brainer, like taking everything from the man he loves is so obviously the right choice.

“No.” He says sternly, suddenly rising from his seat and heading to the door.

“Where are you going!?” Rachel calls out after him.

He pauses. “To do what I should’ve done a long time ago...” Then, he leaves without another word.

This has gone on for too long, he’s in too deep. He knows he loves Blaine now, and no matter how much it hurts, he has to love him enough to let him go, if only for Blaine’s own good.

* * *

_ Knock knock knock. _

Blaine lifts the remote and points it at the TV to press pause. He’d been watching Sweet Home Alabama when the abrupt knocking interrupted him.

He swings his legs off the side of the couch where he’s been resting them, his bare feet prickling against the cool hardwood floor.

He’s met with a familiar face and crystal blue eyes when he opens the door.

“Chris... what’s going on?” Blaine asks. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

He opens the door wider, letting Kurt into the house.

“We need to call off... whatever this is,” he says frantically.

The way Blaine’s face falls breaks his heart even more if it’s possible. “What?”

“I-I’m no good for you...”  _ The best lies are coated in a grain of truth _ , he reminds himself. “You are the best person I’ve ever known and you deserve so much better than anything I can give you.”

And that’s the truth if he's ever heard it. Blaine deserves someone just as earnest and genuine as him, not some criminal like Kurt who’s entrance into this relationship was a lie—a stupid game that could have ruined Blaine’s life.

There’s a fire of determination in his voice when he responds. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide!?”

“Don’t,” Kurt whispers, turning away from him so he doesn’t have to see the look on his face. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“I’m not making anything harder than it has to be,” he replies, gripping Kurt’s wrist desperately. “Because we are not breaking up! I’m not letting you go!”

“Why not?” He throws his arms out from Blaine’s grasp in defeat. “There’s nothing I can offer you that nobody else can’t. Why can’t you just let me go?”

“Because I love you!”

The words hit him like lightning, striking him in the chest and sending a buzzing sensation out to the rest of his body. Blaine hasn’t said it yet, but Kurt’s known for so long. Nobody’s said those three words to him in nearly a decade, and he always thought when he heard them again—if he ever did—he’d despise it. 

But he adores it. 

He loves it and can’t get enough of it and if they were in different circumstances he’d beg Blaine to repeat them over and over again all night.

But they’re in  _ this _ situation. One Kurt got them into, and one he’s going to save Blaine from.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. I love you,” Blaine repeats, stepping up to Kurt and firmly grabbing his hands. “I love the way your face lights up when you talk about singing and theatre. I love your sense of adventure—the way you let a total stranger haul you around the least glamorous parts of the Hamptons for an entire day. I love how honest you are about your opinions, even if they’re different or unpopular. I love  _ you _ , Chris.”

Hearing Blaine’s profession of love again with a different name tacked on feels like a knife in Kurt’s stomach.

“And you love me!” Blaine continues sternly. “I know you do... I see it in your eyes when you look at me, I hear it in your laugh, even when you try to hide it, I feel it when you kiss me. So  _ don’t _ try to deny it!”

“Fine!” Kurt snaps, and he doesn’t know if the tears pooling in his eyes are out of fear or emotional relief. “ _ I love you! _ I love you and it scares me to death. Is that what you want to hear?”

He  _ said _ it. 

He said  _ it _ ... and what’s worse is he meant it. 

Every. Single. Word.

It’s a mess, his life is a fucking mess and he’s dragging Blaine—sweet, innocent, kind, loving, honest Blaine—down with him. 

“I have to go,” Kurt chokes, turning to leave.

All he hears is a breathless, “No,” before Blaine reaches out for his hand and pulls him in.

The moment their lips meet, Kurt knows he’s absolutely fucked.

They’ve kissed before, but not like this. Blaine’s always been so reserved before, but now, it’s like he’s high on knowing Kurt loves him. Kurt can feel the other man’s inhibitions fading away as he places a hand on the back of his neck, pulling them closer to each other. 

The force of the gesture sends them staggering towards the couch where they clumsily flop down onto the cushions, too preoccupied with one another to care about the mess they’re making of Blaine’s living room. Kurt ends up straddling Blaine and Blaine reciprocates by starting a leading trail of kisses down his neck that send a shiver down Kurt’s back.

He’s trembling—actually  _ trembling _ —from how much he feels for Blaine, hands shaking with light tremors as they roam around Blaine’s beautiful body, grabbing onto him like he’s the only thing that can keep him from floating away into oblivion. It’s too much and not enough all at once. 

As their bodies twist and grind together, Kurt tries to keep his mind off of the impending doom of this relationship, to no avail. If he does nothing, he goes to jail. If he continues the con, he opens himself up to more heartbreak and hurts Blaine. Either way, it's nothing short of a Shakespearean tragedy.

He doesn’t have a future with Blaine, but he does have tonight.

Finally, Kurt understands what that song Blaine told him about on their first date is all about.  _ I will share this room with you, and you can have this heart to break. _ There’s beauty in being so vulnerable to another human being, jumping headfirst into a relationship that just might destroy him. It’s about caring enough to take that plunge, take that chance, no matter the outcome, because if you don’t, then  _ what the fuck is the point? _

He loves Blaine— _ loves _ him. And would let him break his heart a million times over if it meant they could have one more moment together.

So he cries as Blaine kisses him, tasting his tears between their lips, and prays to a god he doesn’t even believe in that the other man thinks they’re tears of happiness.

Despite his best efforts, he’s eventually so overcome with emotion—feelings he’s repressed since meeting Blaine finally bobbing to the surface—that he lets out an alarming sob.

Blaine cradles Kurt’s face in his hands, bringing their foreheads together. “Chris, what’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much.” Kurt grabs onto Blaine’s hand, as if that gesture alone could keep them together.

“I love you, too.”

Kurt stares into eyes reminiscent of a golden autumn afternoon—eyes that not too long ago belonged to a stranger, but now feel like home—and he can feel his heart split.

“I know...”  _ That’s what makes everything so awful _ . He buries his head into Blaine’s chest. “Will you... will you just please, hold me?” he asks, knowing how pathetic he must sound and not caring because he  _ needs _ Blaine’s arms around him, reassuring him that everything’s going to be okay, even if it’s not.

Hell,  _ especially _ if it’s not.

“Of course.”

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t let go.”

And he doesn’t. For the rest of the night, Blaine makes good on his promise and nestles Kurt safely in his arms until they both drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *wipes brow* phwew! That was a long one guys, gals, and non-binary pals. 
> 
> The next chapter will proooooobably be a tad shorter than usual? Because this one was so much longer than the others lol. Anyways, thanks for reading, as usual! Leave a comment and let me know what you think (or don’t, no pressure)
> 
> Inspiration Soundtrack for this chapter: Begin Again-Taylor Swift :)


	11. Love, Love, Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *Sue Sylvester Voice* GOOD TO BE BACK LADIES AND GAYS
> 
> As always, a humongous thanks to my beta Adri who literally keeps me fucking sane and has helped me fine tune this story so much!

Sunlight comes beaming through the slits of the blinds on the windows, landing on Kurt’s face and gradually bringing him back to consciousness. Just as the light flows in and gently fills the room, memories from the previous night come flooding back to him.

He can’t decide if they’re heartwarming or heart wrenching. 

Kurt’s heart flutters when he realizes that though still asleep, Blaine’s arms remain wrapped around him. He kept his promise.

He feels the gentle rise and fall of Blaine’s chest and notes that they’re breathing in sync with each other. It’s serene and peaceful, and for a moment he can imagine waking up to many, many more mornings like this.

Kurt wants nothing more than to nuzzle his face into the chest of the man he loves and stay there for the rest of the day, but he already knows without even looking at his phone that he’s got at least a hundred missed calls from Rachel.

He should really deal with that. 

Like a spy in a movie avoiding red lasers, he remorsefully crawls his way out of Blaine’s grasp, careful not to wake the sleeping man.

Brief panic overcomes him when Blaine stirs in his sleep as a response to his absence, likely missing Kurt’s warmth. He lets out a tiny whimper that only makes Kurt want to stay in his embrace even more. Sighing, he grabs a throw blanket from the recliner and gently places it over Blaine, hoping to ease the cold. 

He can’t leave Rachel alone too long or she might come hunt him down (he’ll be damned if he lets her crazy ass near Blaine again), but he also doesn’t want Blaine to think he’s taken off again. In the end, he decides to leave a note on the side table next to the couch.

_ Megan was missing me. Said something about her grandma being sick. Didn’t want to wake you. See you tonight.  _

He heads towards the door to leave, then pauses. He heads back to the note and adds one last thing, a soft smile feathering itself on his face as he writes the words.

_ I love you.  _

* * *

“Did you spend the night with him?” is the first thing Kurt hears when he walks into the hotel room later that morning.

He lets out an exhausted sigh. 

“Because if you did, that really puts a damper on our plan; the whole no consummating the marriage thing?”

“I didn’t sleep with him, if that’s what you’re asking...” He pauses. “But yes, I spent the night.” He finally turns around to the living area of the suite and is met with the sight of Finn on the recliner, leaning forward and watching them both intently.

He faces Rachel again. “What the hell is  _ he _ doing here?”

“I told him we found a way to pay him back... you know, so he won’t go to the police about how we conned him and hid a dead body.”

“And what’s that?” he challenges.

“Blaine Anderson.”

Kurt walks over to the door and opens it, gesturing outwards. “Sorry my roommate is a crazy bitch who wasted your time, Finn. We’re not doing that.”

“Kurt,” Rachel starts sternly. “We  _ have _ to.”

“It won’t even work!” Kurt tosses his hands out, slamming the door. He can feel the tears forming just behind his eyelids, but he’ll be damned if he lets these two idiots see him cry. “We’ll never be able to sell to a judge that an openly gay man cheated on me with a woman, much less  _ you!” _ he spits, taking more pleasure than what’s probably appropriate at the way she gawks at his quip.

Finn suddenly stands up, nodding. “I’ll do it.”

They both whip their heads towards the tall man. “What?” they chorus in unison.

He shrugs and tries to pass off nonchalance. “You say you need a guy...  _ I’m _ a guy.”

Kurt feels his stomach lurch and he scrambles to find another way out of this. “Blaine i-is too... he’s a good person.” He shakes his head frantically. “He would never—he won’t even let himself get into a situation like that.” 

He shakes his head and hates himself for not having the courage to one hundred percent believe the words he's saying. He loves Blaine, and wants nothing more than to be able to have complete faith in him, but… the last time he let himself trust someone, the last time he put that much confidence and stock in another man, he lost his father. 

As much as he loves Blaine, as sure of Blaine as he wants to be, he just isn't. He doesn't even want to— _ can't _ imagine what it would be like if Blaine let him down. And Kurt doesn't want to give him the opportunity to do so just so easily, literally serving it up on a silver platter, ready for the taking.

“What does that matter?” A prissy sigh releases itself from Rachel’s lips, breaking him out of his anxieties. “Look, Kurt. I get that you like him, or whatever, but men are men.”

It takes all the strength he has to look her in the eye and admit to her what he barely admitted to himself not twenty-four hours ago. “I don’t just  _ like _ him, Rachel...”

Finn’s face twists up in confusion, but Kurt can see the realization washing over Rachel’s. 

“Oh no...” she exhales. “No you don’t. Remember what happened last time you gave someone your heart?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he spits back, venom in his words. “He is  _ not _ Sebastian!” 

“He might as well be, because I guarantee that given the chance to jump on someone as hot as Finn, he will.”

“You think I’m hot?” Finn says somewhat aloofly with a big grin, but gets attention from neither Rachel nor Kurt.

“Not him,” Kurt says, managing to keep his voice steady even though Rachel is making his blood boil. “Blaine’s different. That’s why I love him.”

“Oh god,” Rachel groans and tosses her head back. “You’re willing to get shot for love?” She questions. “Because I don’t know if you’ve recently suffered some sort of head trauma that erased your short term memory, but in case you forgot, the guy blackmailing us also has a gun and clearly no reservations against using it!”

“Christ, Rachel. Just because you’re miserable and lonely doesn’t mean I have to be!”

“Finn will go to the cops!” Rachel screeches, and Kurt’s almost impressed with her ability to ignore his attempt at distracting her with a dig. “We will spend the rest of our lives in prison if we don’t do this.”

_ “I don’t care!” _

_ “Enough!” _ Finn shouts, silencing both of them. They both glare at him for having the audacity to interrupt one of their trademark fights. “Listen, I’m a big believer in love—“ his eyes quickly dart to Rachel, “and supporting the gays—“ he looks at Kurt, and Kurt has to resist the urge to drag his hand down his face. 

“But I still need that money back... the tire shop will go under without it and there are guys relying on a paycheck from me. Guys with families who can’t wait very long,” he continues. “So... if he actually cheats on you, we take his money and run. He deserves it anyways, right? But if he doesn’t, then you two go ahead and live the rest of your days out together, have fun. Do whatever it is gay guys do. You’ll find another way to pay me back.”

“Sounds good,” Rachel affirms at the same time Kurt says, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Look, dude,” Finn starts, addressing Kurt. “I’d probably be more sympathetic to your situation if you hadn’t stolen thirty grand from me.” He shrugs. “That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

He glares at the tall man. “I suppose that’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he remarks trenchantly.

“You’ll get your money back, and then some for your troubles… and  _ silence _ .” Rachel stresses to Finn. She looks at Kurt after a moment. “He’s gonna cheat. They always do.”

Kurt clenches his jaw.

“It’s settled then.” Rachel continues. “We continue the con on Anderson, you get him to propose in what, another month? And we don’t spend the rest of our lives in a federal prison.”

The buzzing sensation coming from Kurt’s pocket is like a cruel trick played by god.

**New Message:  
** **From: Blaine Anderson  
** **Got your note. Hope everything goes well with her grandma!**

**Can you meet me at Heartsongs tonight? Closed it for a special surprise ;) just you and me. **

**Love you, too btw.**

“Is that him?” Rachel asks.

“Yeah,” Kurt breathes. “He wants to see me.”

“Well, go get your man.”

He glares at her. 

**To: Blaine Anderson:  
** _ I’ll be there. What time? _

* * *

When he first saw it, Kurt would have called Heartsongs dingy. Now, it’s rustic and charming—especially the way Blaine’s fixed it up. A disco ball hangs from the middle, refracting twinkling light all throughout the room. Candles on the tables add a warm glow to the atmosphere that makes the bar feel even cozier than before.

He’s sure Blaine, ever the romantic, was inspired by some cheesy romantic comedy. 

Kurt adores it.

“What’s the special occasion?” he asks, unable to refrain from smiling when he sees Blaine standing in the cleared out dance floor, lights dancing about his silhouette. “You certainly pulled out all the stops for this date.”

“It’s not just a date, Chris.” Blaine grins.

Kurt stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

His stomach drops when he hears the familiar  [ song ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ghZt2cILcCU) playing in the background. 

_ Forever could never be long enough for me  
_ _ To feel like I’ve had long enough with you _

Holy shit.

No, not yet. Blaine can’t be proposing right now he fucking  _ can’t _ be. 

All Kurt wants is more time with him. Another day like the one they spent together watching movies together, more moments at Heartsongs getting to know each other, just one more night like last night, spent wrapped in each other’s arms.

But he can’t do that if Blaine is proposing right now because that means there’ll be a wedding soon and Finn will seduce him and he'll cheat and it’ll all be  _ over _ so soon. 

If Blaine were anybody else, Kurt would have all the time he wanted because who the  _ hell _ even proposes to somebody they’ve known for three weeks? 

It isn’t  _ fair _ . Kurt knows how this is going to end: the same way it has the countless times he and Rachel have done this before. And he’s going to be forced to watch it all come crashing down before him so quickly. So, so quickly. All because Blaine can’t just hold off for a few more weeks. 

He thought he had more time, but as Blaine slowly walks towards him, Kurt can tell just by the look in his eyes that he doesn’t. Blaine is so absolutely certain of what they have that he’s proposing  _ now _ , and as much as Kurt feels he’s been cheated out of more time with him, he can’t keep back the sudden surge of adoration that floods his chest.

“Three times you ran away from me,” Blaine finally starts. “In this very bar. I knew you were scared, and you were hurting, and that turning from you would only give you a reason to give up on love again. To give up on us.” He walks to Kurt and takes both his quaking hands. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, Chris Greer. And if I didn’t know it, my body and soul sure as hell did. Like I said, you left me three times, but the moment I was certain about you was the one time you stayed. That’s when I knew I had to keep you around forever.”

Kurt’s heart starts to race as Blaine pulls out a small jewelry box. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I learned from a really fantastic movie that when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible...”

Despite himself, Kurt gives a tearful laugh. “ _ When Harry Met Sally _ ...”

Blaine smiles gently and nods, opening up the box. “It’s not much, it's made out of Wrigley’s gum wrappers,” he laughs. “I remember you telling me they were your favorite on our first date, and yes, I do consider that our first date. Even though you were adamant about being just friends.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air. 

“Chris Greer, will y—“

“Don’t.” Kurt pleads, his cracking voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t what?” 

“Don’t ask me to marry you.” 

“Why not?” Blaine asks. If he has any doubts, Kurt can’t see them displayed on his face. Blaine is so certain, so sure about everything all the time, and Kurt envies that. He wishes he could be more like him and be freely unafraid of the world, unwary of letting others in.

But he’s not. He’s  _ weak _ .

“Because I don’t think I’m strong enough to say no.” 

Blaine just grins, ever so blissfully ignorant of the shit storm looming above them, and gently cups Kurt’s cheek with his hand. “Giving in to love doesn’t make you weak.”

Kurt nuzzles his head into Blaine’s touch and grabs his hand with his own, wishing the strength he needs to leave would come fill him. 

But he  _ wants _ to stay. 

He wants Saturday morning cartoons in their pajamas while they cook breakfast together. He wants coming home after a long day at an honest job and immediately being welcomed by a pair of secure arms. He wants to fight over things that don’t matter—over things that  _ do _ matter but pale in comparison to the way they feel about each other—and then have make up sex that’ll make their neighbors jealous. 

He wants it all...  _ everything _ ... as long as it’s with Blaine. 

It’s a slap in the face, having the offer being dangled right in front of him and knowing he might not get to keep it.

“When? Where would we even—“ he starts, but Blaine has it all already figured out.

“As soon as possible, hell, tomorrow if we can. We can have it over at my place—our place, eventually. The Heartsongs band can play and we can use food and booze from the bar. Just,” he pleads. “Please say yes because I can’t stand to spend another second longer than necessary not being married to you.”

“This is crazy,” Kurt responds breathily, head spinning. 

Blaine’s smile only widens. “I know.”

He looks up, as if the ceiling is going to hold the right answer for him, then takes a steadying breath. 

Kurt probably can’t have it all, not with Blaine. No matter how much he wants it (and if he’s being completely honest, he’s not sure he could ever want it with anybody else). But for a moment, he can put his trade skills to work and fool himself into believing he can.

He swallows hard. “Yes.”

Blaine immediately crashes their lips together, kissing him passionately until Kurt finally pulls away.

“Is it possible to be the happiest you’ve ever been while simultaneously being the most terrified?”

Blaine looks at him, innocently oblivious. “I think that’s the  _ best  _ kind of happiness...”


	12. Black Tie Affair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: so um, I sense another long chapter coming I /think/? Lol oops pacing (or writing lbr here) has never been my strong point
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> The warnings for this chapter contain spoilers, so if you are worried about them at all, they’re at the end of the chapter. Feel free to take a look at them (or not, if you like to live life on the edge) and then scroll back up to the chapter.

Kurt stares directly into the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection staring back. Not all that much is different, but the Kurt that stares back at him is just slightly off. It takes a moment, but then it hits him. The Kurt reflected isn’t  _ Kurt _ at all.

It’s Chris Greer.

Chris Greer is marrying Blaine Anderson today, and it’s Chris who might get to spend the rest of his life with him, and Chris who will get to change his last name, all while Kurt Hummel slowly fades away into nothingness.

This entire situation is fucked. For crying out loud, he’s standing in the middle of Blaine’s guest room, the first time he’s even seen this side of the house, and it’s on their  _ wedding _ day.

Best case scenario, Kurt gets to grow old with someone who doesn’t even know his name and will probably never speak it.

_ I can’t believe this is happening. _

It’s a regular tuxedo from a nearby rental shop, the only one he could find on such short notice. A single white rose lies pinned to the lapel of his jacket, a simple but beautiful contrast to the blackness of it.

God, what the fuck has he gotten himself into?

On one hand, he feels a happiness like never before spreading warmly through his body. He’s so glad this is happening. Scratch that: he’s so glad this is happening with  _ Blaine _ . 

On the other hand... Should it really be happening this way? The thought of this newfound happiness being ripped away from him so soon terrifies him to no end. 

He silently reminds himself of Finn’s stipulation. If Blaine doesn’t cheat on him tonight—their wedding night—they get their happy ending. It seems simple enough, but the twisting of Kurt’s gut reminds him that he’s still too damaged to have the faith he should in Blaine. Nausea rolls through him and he’s not sure if it’s nerves or guilt. Blaine has not once given Kurt a reason to doubt him, and yet that’s all he‘s been able to do for the past day. 

He refocuses on the mirror to see if he looks as terrible as he feels and is more than displeased to discover that he absolutely does. He looks ill, the way someone looks before they’re about to spill their guts all over the floor.

He averts his gaze from his distorted reflection and focuses on the frame of the mirror. It's a clean and shiny silver that curls intricately around the mirror’s edges, and though it’s not over the top, it’s obvious that it’s expensive. 

Once more, he looks away, not wanting to be reminded of what got him into this mess, but he only ends up staring at the bed frame of a similar design. Again, not extravagant, but he could tell it came from money. Everything in this house came from money because Blaine comes from money and that’s why Rachel chose him for this con and that’s why he’s here getting married and god, can he stand to look at these material things that will just remind him that his marriage is founded on a lie for the rest of his life?

Will he even get that chance?

_ Fuck _ the money. 

He’d trade it all—all the earnings from every con before Blaine’s—if he could just tell him the truth and have his wedding without the threat of fucking prison hanging over his head.

“Oh, my god... Chris.”

Kurt’s eyes widen in horror at the familiar voice that breaks him from his head. He whips around to find a teary-eyed Blaine staring at him with misplaced adoration. 

“You look... you’re stunning.”

Suddenly, the dread he barely managed to keep at bay comes swarming back into his core like a hive of wasps. 

Kurt hurries up to Blaine and his eyes fill as well, but for a completely different reason. “Christ, Blaine! You can’t—you can’t  _ be  _ here!” he chastises him frantically, fully aware that his concern is past the realm of rational. Still, Kurt’s not taking any chances, and seeing as he doesn’t believe in god, maybe he can get on superstition’s good side. “This is bad luck!”

Blaine just chuckles, still staring at Kurt like he’s the sun and stars and  _ god _ , why won’t he realize what’s good for him and leave? Better yet, why isn’t Kurt brave enough to make that decision for him? This whole love thing has turned him into a selfish idiot.

“That’s only if you see the bride in the wedding dress,” Blaine corrects him. “And seeing as neither of us are brides, I think we’re in the clear.” He grazes his lips lightly against Kurt’s and though it’s barely a second, the contact is enough to reduce Kurt’s knees to jelly. Kurt must look like a deer caught in headlights or something because when Blaine pulls away he has the most concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

Kurt nods, trying to situate his heaving chest and woefully dry mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says without conviction.

Blaine knits his eyebrows together. “I know it’s not a big crowd out there, but we could still sneak off, head to a courthouse. Sam and Tina will forgive me.”

That sounds absolutely wonderful, but Kurt can’t have Finn calling the cops on him for not following through with the plan. Really, he can’t imagine anything worse than walking out of that hypothetical courthouse—officially Blaine’s husband—only to have a fleet of officers surrounding them and expose him.

Kurt taps into his performative side and puts on what surely must be a more convincing smile since he can see Blaine relax a little. “I’m fine,” he says, pride surging through him when his voice doesn’t sound nearly as small as he feels.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not, we can postpone this shindig until you’re feeling a little more… settled.”

He fervently shakes his head. “No,” he says firmly. “I’m ready.”

“Alright.” Blaine smiles and places a gentle kiss to Kurt’s lips. “I’ll be the one in the black. In front of Sam. Just in case you get lost.”

Kurt forces out a seemingly natural laugh at his fiancé’s ( _ woah, that’s crazy… fiancé… _ ) joke. His face falls as soon as Blaine is out the door, and once again he’s fighting back foreboding fear.

* * *

Kurt and Blaine stand across from each other, hands enveloped in the center.

“Chris…” Blaine starts with a soft smile. “There is a moment when you say to yourself,  _ Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever. _

“Now that I’ve finally found you, I realize that it’s never really felt like I've been getting to know you, it's always felt like I was  _ remembering _ you from something. As if in every lifetime that you and I have ever lived, we've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love, all over again. Over and over, for all eternity...

“And I just feel so lucky that although we haven’t known each other for very long in this lifetime, we get to start our lives together so quickly because all I wanna do, all I've—all I've ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you. And I’m ready to do just that and be the best husband I can be while I’m at it. Thank you for giving me that chance.”

Sam nods to Kurt, signaling that it’s his turn to recite vows.

He glances up warily at him, hands still trembling in Blaine’s before he finally opens his mouth to speak.

Over the years, lying has become something past second nature—first nature, if that’s a thing. But standing here, holding the love of his life’s hands, he knows that all he has to do to say his vows is be honest. Suddenly, he can’t imagine how he ever got away with lying to Blaine before.

“I uh... I don’t have very many people in my life.” He starts shakily, voice steadying as Blaine squeezes him gently. That’s all it takes—one of those simple, reassuring gestures that Blaine is so good at—for him to continue with renewed strength. “I’m usually too afraid to let them in, give them any opportunity to hurt me. But a while ago I accidentally let one slip through the cracks of my defenses. That ended up being the best mistake of my life. 

“A few weeks ago, I didn’t even believe in love. And now, here I am, getting married.” A small, breathy chuckle escapes him. “It’s been a whirlwind, and I wish my mom and dad could be here to see it. To see us. And how truly happy you make me... I love you more than I’ve loved anyone else. 

“I’ve seen it done in movies where one character comes and “fixes” the other but, Blaine... you didn’t fix me. You just reminded me that I was never broken until I started to believe it, too. Thank you,” he finally finishes.

_ Thank you just in case this is goodbye. _

His words ring in the air for a few moments after he’s done, before Sam continues.

“Do you, Chris Greer, take Blaine Anderson—“

“Yes,” Kurt breathes. “A thousand times yes.”

“And do you, Blaine Anderson, take Chris Greer to be your—“

“I do,” Blaine interrupted Sam.

“Will you two let me finish my lines?” His reprimands were betrayed by the smile on his face. 

Blaine couldn’t help but beam back. “If you let me kiss my husband.”

“Fine, you may now kiss… each other.”

Kurt doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s reaching out and taking Blaine’s face in his hands, pulling it close into his own.

He did it. Blaine is legally his husband. 

_ Illegally, really, _ Kurt reminds himself.  _ Blaine just married a fake identity. He’s not your husband. He’s Chris Greer’s.  _

Kurt does his best to push the thought aside despite the churning in his stomach. He got through the ceremony...

Now, he just has to survive the rest of the night.

* * *

“Is it time for the Maid of Honor Speech yet?” Tina asks with an air of impatience.

Sam shoots her a glare while Blaine chuckles and gives her the okay to stand up from the large table the few in attendance are gathered around.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all…” Sam mutters at her through the side of his teeth. 

Tina just rolls her eyes before beginning.

“Look, we all know I haven’t been Chris’s biggest fan in the short time I’ve known him. And I have my reasons. You two don’t know each other very well, haven’t even lived together, likely haven’t had any of the conversations a couple should before promising forever to each other—“ Sam kicks his foot against hers and sends her a look that seems to say  _ Get to the point. _ She shoots him a quick glare back before finally turning to face Kurt and Blaine. “I was doubtful of it all, to say the least. But watching you two together tonight... I can tell you’re really made for each other.”

Of all the people currently in attendance at his wedding, Kurt never thought for a second that Tina would be the one to make him feel the most reassured about his relationship with Blaine. Nevertheless, he’s touched by her words, and for the first time that day, the anxiety he’s felt since Blaine proposed takes a backseat to the warmth in his chest.

“And I know I wasn’t always very supportive, but that all changes now… Which is why Sam and I prepared a little surprise for you guys.” Kurt finally has the luxury of seeing Tina smile a warm one instead of her usual icy glare. “We know you probably didn’t have time to discuss it with the nuptials being so short notice, but we figured no wedding is complete without a first dance.”

Sam and Tina head to the makeshift stage they made in Blaine’s backyard, Sam taking his guitar with him. They take a moment to settle before starting an  [ acoustic rendition  ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MT3dB8poLdo) of the song that played the night Kurt first kissed Blaine.

Though it was less than a month ago, Kurt can’t help but wonder how he had denied his feelings for Blaine for so long. That time seems so distant and foggy now, like the first few seconds after you wake up from an unpleasant dream. Now, he can’t imagine ever wanting to leave Blaine’s side, and he’s desperately hoping he doesn’t have to.

After they make their way to the grassy area that’s serving as the dancefloor, Kurt immediately wraps his arms around the back of Blaine’s neck as the familiar song plays, and they both start gently swaying along. 

_ Dancing when the stars go blue _ _   
_ _ Dancing where the evening fell _ _   
_ _ Dancing in your wooden shoes _ _   
_ __ In a wedding gown

“You love me, right?” Kurt blurts out suddenly, panic starting to rise against every effort to keep it down. “No matter what?”

Blaine lets out a chuckle, oblivious as ever. “I just married you, what do you think?” He leans his head towards Kurt. “Why, are you going to tell me you have some weird secret fetish I don’t know about?”

“I’m serious,” Kurt says, squeezing onto Blaine a little tighter.. “You’d never do anything to ruin what we have right?”

_ Where do you go when you’re lonely? _ _   
_ _ Where do you go when you’re blue? _ _   
_ _ Where do you go when you’re lonely? _ _   
_ __ I’ll follow you

“Of course not.” Blaine squeezes back, the look on his face telling that he’s finally picking up on some of Kurt’s unease. “I love you, Chris.”

There it is again, that stabbed in the gut feeling that reminds Kurt why he is feeling as unsettled as he is. Blaine is in love with this idea of  _ Chris _ that Kurt’s sold him. He doesn’t love  _ Kurt _ , and that terrifies him to no end because he loves Blaine more than anything in this world. He fell fast and hard, and if he loses Blaine, he’ll break just the same.

_ When the stars go blue... _

“Mind if I cut in?”

Kurt has to suppress a growl from forming in his throat at Finn’s voice. He manages to keep a steady face while looking at Blaine, but as soon as he turns to face Finn, his eyes flare up protectively. “No, not at all,” he says in a voice honeyed over with as much artificial sweetness as one of those disgusting diet sodas. He bites back a shit eating grin when he sees the smallest flicker of fear flash across Finn’s face.

“After all, it is vital that my favorite cousin gets to know my husband, right?”

Blaine sends Kurt a smile before taking Finn’s hand, the taller boy not following the music quite as gracefully as Blaine is.

His heart starts to race as he sees Blaine dancing with Finn, searching for any sign of interest from Blaine. He’s calmed for a moment when he sees none, just his husband smiling and nodding politely as he makes what seems to be light conversation.

He exhales and relaxes a bit before he’s flooded with guilt again.  _ He’s  _ the liar here. Not Blaine. Time and time again, he’s done nothing but prove himself blindly loyal to Kurt. He wants to trust Blaine but he can’t even trust himself, and he sure as hell can't trust Rachel or Finn.

The rollercoaster of emotions stirring within Kurt reaches its peak as he watches Finn’s hands slide down towards the small of Blaine’s back. He’s once again relieved when he sees Blaine take a step back away from Finn, his face turning red as he fervently shakes his head.

From the other side of the yard, Blaine turns towards Kurt and sends him a soft gaze. He tries heading back towards his new husband before his path is blocked by who he supposes is now his sister-in-law, two champagne flutes in tow.

“Hi there, Blaine!” Rachel starts cheerily. “I was about to go give Vinny one of these, but seeing as you’re the one who just got married, I think a little liquid congratulations are in order.”

“That’s actually very sweet of you, Megan, thank you.” He reaches out towards her right hand and she immediately retracts it back, nearly spilling the entire glass.

“Oh, no! That one's mine,” she says frantically. Blaine raises a suspicious eyebrow at her. She lifts a hand and stage whispers to him, “I snuck a little extra tequila in there.” 

“Tequila in champagne,” Blaine scrunches up his face in mild judgement. “Classy.”

He takes the other glass and sips it as he  _ finally  _ makes it back to Kurt, strange familial detours over and done with.

“Your family is weird—”

He’s cut off by Kurt pulling on the font of his jacket and bringing their lips together.

“Thank you,” Kurt mumbles against Blaine’s lips.

“Not that I’m complaining, but thank me for what?”

“Just… for being you.”

_ I’m sorry for doubting you, _ he thinks guiltily to himself.  _ I’m sorry I can’t  _ ** _stop _ ** _ doubting you. I’m sorry I’m so fucked up that I can’t find it within myself to trust you. _

“This might be cheesy,” Kurt starts, snapping himself out of his headspace. “But I uh… I wanted to sing something for you tonight. I know it’s kind of silly—”

“It’s not silly.” Blaine interrupts him, eyes glazed over with adoration. “It’s sweet, and perfect, and I’m sure I’ll love it as much as I love you.”

“I really do love you, Blaine… I just… need you to know that more than anything.”

“I do.” 

Kurt gnaws on the inside of his cheek nervously before heading towards the simple stage area that Sam and Tina left a moment ago. Finally, it’s his turn to stand center stage, staring right at Blaine with eyes that he hopes have more love than fear in them. He takes a deep breath and opens is mouth to  [ sing ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-STjt4nDwec) , the piano player expertly following his lead.

_ A drop in the ocean  
_ _ A change in the weather  
_ _ I was praying that you and me might end up together  
_ _ It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert  
_ __ But I'm holding you closer than most 'cause you are my heaven

_ I don't wanna waste the weekend  
_ _ If you don't love me, pretend  
_ __ A few more hours then it's time to go

_ Misplaced trust in old friends  
_ _ Never counting regrets  
_ __ By the grace of God I do not rest at all

_ And still I can't let you be  
_ _ Most nights I hardly sleep  
_ __ Don't take what you don't need from me

_ It's just a drop in the ocean  
_ _ A change in the weather  
_ _ I was praying that you and me might end up together  
_ _ It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert  
_ __ But I'm holding you closer than most 'cause you are my...

As Kurt sings, he can’t keep images from the past few weeks from flying through his mind. He can see the night he first kissed Blaine and wonders how he could let himself be in denial for so long.

_ Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore  
_ _ No, no  
_ __ Heaven doesn't seem far away

Kurt’s elusive happily ever after never seemed so close and so far away at the same time.

_ Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore  
_ _ No, no  
_ _ Heaven doesn't seem far away  
_ __ Oh, oh

_ It's just a drop in the ocean  
_ _ A change in the weather  
_ _ I was praying that you and me might end up together  
_ _ It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert  
_ _ But I'm holding you closer than most 'cause you are my heaven  
_ __ Oh, you are my heaven

Kurt slowly makes his way back to his new husband, finding it harder and harder to meet his gaze. 

How could one night be so right and yet so completely wrong?

“That was an… interesting song choice,” Blaine says, a hint of concern in his voice.

Kurt swallows nervously before putting back on his composed front. “Well, you were the one who inspired me with all that  _ depressing songs can be romantic _ stuff… I guess I was really focusing on the heaven part.” He reaches up to cup Blaine’s cheek, heart skipping when he leans into the touch. “I need you to know I mean that. You really are my heaven, Blaine. And if I get to spend the rest of my life with you—”

“If?”

_ Fuck _ . 

Kurt distracts Blaine in the best way he knows how: by throwing his arms around his neck and bringing their faces together once more. It seems to work, because he can feel the desperation in Blaine’s breath as he sighs into the kiss. 

He suddenly gets an idea.

The con is completely based on the premise of Blaine cheating on him before they even get to consummate the marriage. If he sleeps with Blaine before Finn can get to him, the con falls through.

It’s not exactly the motive he wanted behind his first time with Blaine, but if he’s lucky, he’ll have the rest of their lives to make up for it… right? Either way, Kurt is ridiculously desperate to keep Blaine, and if going back to his old conniving ways is the only way to do that, then so be it. (He stubbornly shuts off the part of his brain telling him that there is another way to do this:  _ trust Blaine _ .) 

Kurt scans the courtyard for Finn and Rachel, hope fluttering through him when he finally spots them by the bar, laughing heartily with each other. “Let’s go inside,” he whispers right into Blaine’s ear. 

Blaine pulls away, more than a little astonished. “We still have guests,” he notes.

Kurt shrugs. “It’s our wedding night. I’m sure they won’t mind if we sneak away for a while.” He looks Blaine right in the eyes, hoping he’s effectively concealing any fear in them.

“Okay,” Blaine agrees breathily, a wide grin on his face as he tugs Kurt’s hand towards the house, discreetly breaking away from the rest of the party.

As soon as they’re through the door, Kurt crashes his lips against Blaine’s, immediately reaching up to try and undo his tie and any buttons lying underneath it.

Blaine laughs against his lips. “I think this can wait until we’re  _ actually _ in the bedroom.”

Kurt shakes his head and pulls Blaine on top of him, bringing both of them tumbling towards the familiar couch. “No time,” Kurt breathes. “Need you now.” He momentarily keeps any guilt at bay by reminding himself that it’s not technically a lie. They really are running out of time. Soon, Finn and Rachel will realize that they’re gone and come looking for them. 

_ “Chris.” _

Kurt decides then and there that he’s going to have to find some way to get Blaine to start calling him by his real name because if he has to go the rest of his life without hearing Blaine say his name, he might actually  _ die— _

His racing thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging open and Finn and Rachel barging in.

“Woah!” Finn says dramatically, bringing up his hands to his face. “Were we interrupting something?”

“Yes,” Kurt hisses at the same time Rachel lets out a laugh and says, “Of course not!”

Kurt sends her a glare as Blaine sheepishly smooths out the newly made wrinkles in his clothes and tries to close up some undone buttons on his shirt.

“I know you’re not really that into football,” Rachel says. “But Vinny here is a big fan of the New York Giants, Blaine’s home state team.”

“Yeah,” Finn starts. “I was wondering if you’d mind showing me any cool paraphernalia you have. If that’s okay with Chris?” Finn gives a falsely innocent look at them. “I don’t want to keep the newlyweds away from each other for too long.”

Kurt presses out a strained smile, knowing very well he can’t say no to Finn without risking… well, everything (which includes Blaine because he  _ is  _ everything).

He tried to take things into his own hands, but it really is up to Blaine now.

“Of course,” he says, not feeling nearly agreeable as he has to sound. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“I’ll be right back,” Blaine presses a gentle kiss to Kurt’s lips. “I love you.”

Finn nods and leads Blaine up the stairway.

“Love you, too.”

* * *

Kurt’s bouncing his leg impatiently and worrying his lip between his teeth, watching the clock tick by while Rachel sits next to him on the couch downstairs. 

With each passing second, his heart pounds harder and harder.

Tick.

_ He loves you. _

Tick.

_ You have to believe that. _

Tick.

_ He won’t do it. _

He’s jolted back to reality by Rachel’s hand on his thigh. He sees her concerned countenance and shakes his head. 

“He won’t do it,” he says, voicing his thoughts and reassuring himself as much as anyone else. “He loves me.”

She just smiles sadly. “Sweetie... you and I both know men don’t love anybody but themselves.”

He slaps her hand away and suddenly rises up from his seat. “Okay, that’s it!” He heads towards the stairs to the guest room.

“Kurt, wait!”

“They’ve had nearly half an hour together, if he hasn’t done it now, he won't ever!”

She rushes up the stairs after him, but by the time she gets there, it’s too late.

He swings the door open and the sight that greets him makes his heart feel like it’s being ripped out of his chest.

Finn has his arms wrapped around Blaine—his husband, the love of his life—and their faces are pressed together. Finn is grimacing against the embrace while Blaine is reciprocating. Sloppily, but definitely reciprocating.

Finn pulls away with an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. “Kyl—Kur—I mean, Chris!?” He shouts dramatically and awkwardly. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Blaine falls backwards onto the bed then props himself up weakly on his elbows. He lets out a confused moan. “Huh?”

After the initial shock, Kurt doesn’t feel anything. He just stares blankly, helplessly for a few seconds before wordlessly spinning around and heading for the stairs.

_ The Great Gatsby _ , Kurt thinks, each syllable repeated in his mind with every step he takes.  _ The Great Gatsby. The loneliest moment. This is the Great Gatsby all over again. Why did you think it would be different? _

His racing thoughts don’t make sense until he stops abruptly at the end of the banister. Then, it all suddenly hits him like a bullet through his chest. 

He doubles over when he realizes that he can’t breathe. He can’t fucking  _ breathe _ . He lifts his hands to his face and finally lets himself break down bawling. The lack of control he has over his breathing makes his head feel dizzy and the images of the love of his life in someone else’s arms make him feel even further physically sick.

_ This isn’t happening _ , he tells himself, pleading to a god he stopped believing in a long time ago in hopes that it’ll undo what’s been done. 

_ This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. _

He feels a hand on his shoulder and doesn’t even know he wishes it was Blaine until he’s met with a familiar pair of brown eyes that aren’t his. 

“Are you okay?”

He whirls around and shakes his head at her. “No!” He shouts, face red and eyes puffy and choking back a sob. “Actually, I kind of feel like I’m going to die, Rachel.”

He all but sprints out the door. 

“Where are you going?” she cries.

“Anywhere but here.”

And slams the door shut behind him.

When he finally reaches Rachel’s car, he presses his forehead against it and lets out a sob while a flood of tears roll down his cheeks. There’s no strength left for him to even open the car door, so he just turns and slides down it until he collapses on the road, not caring that the gravel is pressing uncomfortably into his skin, or that he doesn’t have a jacket on and the air is way too cold, biting into his cheeks. He just doesn’t care anymore.

Actually, he cares too damn much… and that’s where he went wrong.

Finally, he buries his head in his knees, unable to stop the seemingly endless flow of tears.

It had taken three weeks, but Kurt Hummel believes in love again. Surely, it has to be.

What else could hurt this much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter Warnings (Contain Spoilers for Future Chapters as well)
> 
> Non-Consensual Intake Of Drugs


	13. Lying Is Easy, Goodbye Isn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the late update y'all! I had another TMEA competition yesterday and then I had plans with my friends and it came down to either postiong or taking a power nap and I decided some TLC for myself was in order after the month I've had lol
> 
> ANYWAYS
> 
> Enjoy! only three chapters left!

“He can have it all.”

Rachel had always told Kurt that there was nothing more satisfying than hearing those five words come out your mark’s mouth.

He tries to keep this in mind as Blaine’s legal team scrambles to get him to backtrack on giving Kurt the deed to Heartsongs. 

It’s all not nearly as satisfying as he thought it would be.

* * *

Kurt allows the courthouse door to slam shut behind him as he quickly makes his way to the parking lot, arms crossed tightly across his chest and gripping his elbows tightly. He’s too damn vulnerable right now, too exposed, and if he spends one more fucking second in that courthouse he might actually die.

The asphalt crunches against a familiar footfall and Kurt quickens his pace. Still, he can’t outrun Blaine, who runs right into his path. 

“Chris, wait!” He holds his hands out in front of him pleadingly. 

“What!” Kurt shouts. “What more could you possibly want from me?”

Blaine just reaches out for Kurt’s hand and presses something that crinkles into it. “When I said I wanted to give you everything, I meant it.”

Kurt opens his palm to see the once flattened two dollar bill Blaine has shown him that first night at Heartsongs now lying crumpled in his hand. 

He swallows hard. 

He’s hurt badly, but he knows he can’t take this from Blaine. It’s from his mother, for crying out loud. 

He probably shouldn’t feel guilty about taking the deed to Heartsongs either, but he does; he shouldn’t be missing someone who cheated on him, but he is. There are so many things he never should have done, but the biggest mistake was letting Blaine in.

Kurt just pushes the bill back into Blaine’s hands and leaves him with a harsh comment he hopes will deter him from following. “Your money doesn’t fucking mean anything to me.” He brushes right by him, ready to leave the blip that was Blaine Anderson in his past.

Blaine comes running after him, ever the fighter.

“I swear on my life, Chris, I have no idea what happened with Vinny.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he says as waspishly as he can, to try and cover up the pain. A part of him feels like he doesn’t even have any right to be mad. Yes, Blaine cheated, but in a way... So had Kurt. This whole time, he wasn’t even being truthful about his name.

Meanwhile, Blaine has been honest about everything.

But Kurt had meant every word at their wedding, and he hoped his ex-husband did too. In vain, apparently, considering Blaine went and broke his vows not twelve hours after he made them.

“Look, I know the situation doesn’t lean favorably in my direction, but we have _ never _ lied to each other.”

Christ, he can’t take this anymore. Kurt spins around ferociously.

“All we _ did _ was lie to each other!” he snaps, finally letting out a sob. He made it through the mediation, but seeing Blaine face to face is so much harder than he ever could have imagined. 

Kurt watches Blaine’s confusion morph into pain as he continues. “I said I didn’t love you,” he points at his ex-husband. “And you said you did.” He finishes defeatedly.

As he walks away, his chest tightens, probably from being stabbed by the shards of his broken heart.

It’s the first time Blaine doesn’t come after him.

* * *

“So, where am I dropping you off?” Rachel asks as Kurt slides into the passenger side of her car. “Airport? Bus station?”

He just leans his head against the window, staring out towards the courthouse. 

“I meant it when I said I’d let you leave in peace, Kurt,” she tries to get a response out of him, to no avail.

After several seconds of silence, words wearily trail out of his mouth. “If it’s alright with you... I think I’ll just stay.” His voice is tight, like he‘s struggling to breathe.

She can finally see the silent tears rolling down his cheeks. 

All Kurt had talked about for months was running away to Manhattan and finally being on his own, so his sudden retraction of that well voiced desire sends her head spinning. “A-are you sure?” she asks in utter disbelief.

His face contorts and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Please, Rachel,” he chokes out. “I can’t be alone right now.”

Rachel never wanted Kurt to leave. She got what she wanted.

It’s all not nearly as satisfying as she thought it would be.

* * *

After splitting the earnings into three separate bank accounts, Rachel walks into the cafe she, Kurt, and Finn all agreed to meet at… Separately, of course. Kurt really doesn’t have any interest in having a conversation with Finn, much less sitting at the same table as him. 

Rachel doesn’t blame him. She’d really never seen Kurt as broken as the day they drove off from the courthouse, which is really, truly saying something.

But it’s for the best. If she had let them live their lives out together, Blaine would’ve broken Kurt’s heart one way or another. At least this way, she would be there for Kurt rather than him dealing with this inevitable heartbreak alone.

This _ is _ for the best… _ right? _

She sees Finn waiting for her at an empty table, staring out the window and looking annoyingly dreamy as ever. 

“There,” she strides up to the table and tosses the packet with the bank account information at him. “You’ve got your money back,” she spits, taking a seat. “Happy?”

He looks at her with a sad expression she can’t quite figure out. 

“What?”

He shakes his head. “I am happy, Rachel... I’m glad to have the money you stole from me back, but don’t you think I would have rather had you?”

Her jaw drops. “I-I—you didn’t even know me.” She defends, then quickly reminds herself there’s nothing to defend. “You didn’t even know my name.”

“Lisa, Megan, Rachel,” he lists off the aliases. “It’s all a rose, like in Shakespeare.” 

“Do you mean what’s in a name that which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet?”

“Exactly.” 

Rachel shakes her head. “I fed you exactly what you wanted to hear, and you ate it up. You didn’t _ love _ me.”

“Except I did.” He says honestly. “And not everything was a lie. Do you remember that night we were supposed to go downtown but it rained?”

Despite herself, she smiles at the memory. 

“We stayed at my place and you made me watch old musicals with you all night. We finally got to that one with Barbra Streisand, Funny Lady—“

“Funny Girl,” Rachel corrects. “Funny Lady is the enthralling sequel, but continue.”

“Whatever it’s called, you stood up and re-enacted almost every scene by heart. Word for word. It was incredible. You can’t tell me that was all part of your master plan.”

She shrugs. “I mean, it wasn’t in the plan, but if it worked—“

“It did...” He reaches out across the table and places his hand on hers before continuing. “In the last scene, when she sings My Man, you got up and sang and...” he trails off in awe. “I’d never heard you sing... not like that. And I didn’t let you see it, but I was crying. Because I knew I’d found the love of my life. That night you were one hundred percent Rachel Berry. And that was the night I knew I had to marry _ you _.”

Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly as she realizes—“You proposed the next day...”

“When you left... I watched that movie every night for a week straight.”

The realization slams into her like a linebacker into a practice dummy. She... likes Finn. She had just thought that out of all their marks, he’d been the most tolerable but that was never it, she _ liked _ him.

And he’s the type of person she could see herself even loving.

Guilt sloshes around in her stomach as memories from Kurt’s wedding fly through her mind. Is this what she kept him from finding?

“I’m sorry...” she says, and it’s the first time in a long time that she means it to someone other than her partner in crime. “It never occurred to me that what you felt was real. I just figured you were another blue-balled dickwad who wanted nothing more than to help himself.”

“I mean, I did want to sleep with you,” he admits. “You’re a beautiful woman.” She feels color rising to her cheeks. “But you’re so much more than that. You’re smart, and funny, and admittedly a little crazy, but I did love you. No guy is perfect,” he concludes. “I’ve got loads of flaws, but I think I would’ve made a fine husband if you’d given me the chance.”

“I guess you can be pretty charming,” she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“I really can! Hell, even perfect Anderson couldn’t keep his hands off me,” he tries to joke.

It earns a snort from Rachel but not for the reason he thinks. “Yes he could,” she spills. Her eyes shoot open and her stomach drops. 

Oops.

“What?” Finn starts, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, I—“

“Rachel...”

“Fuck,” she mutters. She looks up at him, guilt clouding her eyes. “Blaine kept turning you down all night, so I spiked his drink before he went upstairs with you... I knew it would make him... agreeable.”

Finn claps a hand over his mouth in horror then drags it down his chin. “Oh, my god, Rachel! That’s bad! Even for you, that’s _ really fucking bad!” _

His eyes go wide with a combination of horror and realization and he preemptively cuts Rachel off before she has the chance to respond. 

“Oh my god... that makes me his assaulter.” He mumbles. Then with wide and panicked eyes says, louder this time, “I try to be a good feminist, Rachel! I took a gender studies course—they showed us a documentary and everything—I know what consent is, and Blaine Anderson did _ not _give his! Oh god… am I going to hell for this?”

She squeezes her eyes tightly and when she opens them, they’re shining with barely held back tears. “I know. I know it was fucked up, but Finn... I moved out when I was eighteen because I figured I’d live in New York with my fiancé.”

His jaw drops at the startling revelation. “Wait… you’ve been engaged? Like, _ really _ engaged, and not fake engaged?”

“Yes…” She admits. “And when he left me at the altar... I just... I couldn’t tell my dads. I just couldn’t. I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, and I’m sure they would have been of me, too. Kurt is the only family I’ve known for so long. I don’t know if I can survive without him.”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t make what you did right.”

“I know,” she grimaces. “That’s probably what’s so fucked up. I knew, and I didn’t care, but seeing the way it destroyed him now just... _ kills _ me.”

“It’s not too late, Rachel.” He grips her hand tightly. “You can still tell him the truth.”

“I can... and he’ll hate me and once again, I’ll be all alone.”

“No you won’t,” he replies simply. “You’d have me.”

“You... you’d still want me? After everything I’ve done?”

“I came here to get you back, and I’m not leaving till I do just that. Maybe that makes me an idiot, but I know what we had was real. I’d still like to give it a shot, if you’re willing.”

She gapes at him for a moment before realizing that after Kurt, she really has nothing left to lose. Finn has proven time and time again that he’s a decent guy—a little dim, maybe, but his intentions are always pure. This could be... _ something _. That’s for certain.

She’s broken out of her thoughts as Kurt walks in, still looking absolutely wrecked.

“Just think about it.” Finn stands up and pats her hand, heading out the door while Rachel follows him with her eyes the entire time.

Kurt slides into the booth where he sat not a moment ago. “Think about what?” he asks, finally managing to muster up the strength to carry on a normal conversation.

She gulps. “Telling you the truth.”

“Oh, my god, Rachel. If there’s another hidden bank acc—“

“Blaine didn’t cheat on you.”

Silence. 

“What...?”

“He didn’t cheat on you,” she repeats, voice shaking. “I... I slipped something in his drink.”

His eyes grow impossibly wide, and he practically roars like she’s never heard him before. “You _ what!?” _

She actually flinches, but manages to keep her composure for the time being. “He kept turning Finn down all night. I had to make him... easy to handle.”

Kurt’s mind flashes to the awful, terrible things he said to Blaine outside of the courthouse, all those messages he never responded to, the myriad of calls left unanswered. Oh, god, he feels like he’s just spent an hour on a tilt-a-whirl after eating six corn dogs, and he places a hand on the table to steady himself, certain he’ll faint if he doesn’t hold himself up.

“I could _ kill _ you Rachel! _ I love him!” _ he screams, as anger and panic begins to prick at his skin. He wants to yell, slap her across the face, and cry all at once... but he mostly wants to go back in time and erase everything.

He wants to go back and introduce himself as Kurt Hummel, be just as open as Blaine was, let down all his walls from the very start instead of bricking them back up even higher every time Blaine knocked one down. He wants a second chance he doesn’t deserve.

He wants his husband back.

“I know,” she sobs, tears pooling at her eyes. “I’m so sorry—“

“Sorry is not going to cut it! How could you do such a thing Rachel!?” A nauseating anxiety rises up in his throat in waves as he realizes his best friend cost him a future with the love of his life. “I could’ve had a life with him!”

“Exactly!” She abruptly snaps. Kurt goes quiet, suddenly confused. She sighs. “Even before Jesse and Sebastian screwed us over, we had each other’s backs all through high school—you’d tell me when I was wearing something atrocious and I’d tell you when you were a little pitchy in glee club... one of those admittedly happened more than the other. For the past decade it’s been me and you…

“The day Jesse left, you held me tight and told me everything was going to be okay. And it took a while, but it was. In our own twisted, fucked up way, it _ was _. You held me together, and I was afraid that if you left, I’d fall apart all over again.

“When you said you wanted to go your own way, I freaked. _ Everything _ I’ve known for the past nine years was about to change and... I was scared. I _ am _ scared, Kurt. You have so much potential. You are so much smarter than me, and prettier than me, and a better person than I am and the truth is I kept you down for so long because I know that I need you _ so _ much more than you need me.”

Kurt stares at her in shock. This whole time, he had thought Rachel tried to keep him from leaving because she likes the attention. Never would he have imagined that she actually _ needs _ him. 

He can’t ignore the fact that in their trademark dysfunctional way, her confession is almost heartwarming. But Kurt doesn’t let himself trust people, and the fact that the one person he thought he could for the last decade screwed him over not once, but _ twice _, definitely created a rift in their relationship. One he’s not sure they can mend.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t understand your motives,” he finally replies, voice shaking as he realizes that he’s about to let go of the only friend he’s had for years. “But that doesn’t mean I can forgive your actions.”

Her face crumples and she nods understandingly. “Yeah,” she chokes out. “I get it... I just... regardless of that, I want to do whatever I can to make it right.”

A small part of Kurt wonders why she’s choosing now to be a decent person, but an even bigger part of him is surprisingly proud of her for the offer. 

Maybe this is exactly what she needs. Hell, maybe this is exactly what _ he _needs. 

When their ex-fiances screwed them over, it made sense to lean on each other because they were young and angry and hurt. But over the years, it just turned into habit—sticking together because it was safer than venturing out into the world that had beaten them down. The problem was they stuck around and clung too tightly when they didn’t need to, neither of them able to let go of the past, and it ended up not being so great for either of them.

They were there for each other when they needed it—something Kurt will be eternally grateful for—still, it doesn’t mean he isn’t furious with her or that he wants her in his life. Not now, maybe not ever...

“There is one thing you can give me...” Kurt says.

Finally getting a hold of herself, she nods determinedly. “Anything.”

After Rachel gets the information Kurt needs, they leave the cafe and head back to the hotel room to gather their things. They meet out in the parking lot of the hotel, remnants of the last six eventful weeks all packed up into two suitcases.

Rachel tosses her keys to Kurt, who catches them despite being caught off guard. “Here,” she says. “I think you’ll need these more than I will.”

He furrows his brows together in confusion. “How are you getting... to wherever you’re going?”

“I’ve got a free ride with a six foot tall mechanic.” She shrugs, and Kurt allows himself to give something that almost resembles a smile. “And for the first time in a long time, I’m not afraid to see where it takes me.”

He simply nods and slides into the driver’s seat of her car, rolling the window down because even though he’s angry, even though he’s ready to leave Rachel behind, it’s still a little scary to say goodbye to the only person who’s stuck by his side for so long.

“Do you hate me?” she asks bluntly.

He purses his lips at her. “I won’t lie... kind of. But at the same time I think I’ll always love you.”

Her mouth twists, caught somewhere between a frown and smile. “Looks like we’ve both got some shit to work through.”

“Yeah...”

A long silence settles between them. 

This is really it.

“It’s the end of another era for us glee kids.” Rachel says softly.

“Take care, Rachel,” is the last thing Kurt says to her before driving off to towards his next destination.


	14. An Honest Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a million thanks to my Beta Adri who, oh my goD worked magic on this chapter and helped me make it into something I was really happy with and proud of.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has kept reading and commenting, I super appreciate it and y'all just make my day :))))
> 
> I hope you enjoy the final chapter of this story! (and the epilogue next week!)

Kurt waits anxiously at the cafe, leg refusing to stay still as it jitters up and down. Normally the smell of coffee can calm him right down, but he’s never wanted to get out of a coffee shop so badly. Every second spent here is a second not fixing things with Blaine.

Rachel had sold Heartsongs to some guy on—get this, fucking _ Craigslist _. Not even the black market or something a tad more threatening. What criminals they were.

After demanding the buyer’s username, he managed to send the guy a few messages and eventually convinced him to meet. He‘d ended up reeling the buyer in by saying he had an offer he couldn’t refuse, and now Kurt is desperately hoping that‘s true.

He checks his watch. The worry in the pit of Kurt’s stomach deepens into dread. If this guy doesn’t show, he’s lost all hope of ever getting Blaine back.

An all too familiar voice breaks him out of his anxieties, one he thought he’d never hear again. 

“Kurt?”

His blood runs cold.

He slowly swivels his head to the side, desperately hoping that his echoic memory has failed him and it’s not who he thinks it is, but when he sees the familiar green eyes and sandy brown hair, he knows it to be true.

Sebastian.

For the past nine years, all Kurt has thought about was what he would do if faced with this exact situation. On more than one occasion, he’s fantasized about letting his ex-fiancé know exactly what he thinks of him. He’d always been uncertain whether harsh words and phrases he’s had nearly a decade to cultivate would do the trick, or if a simple slap in the face would suffice. In his imagination, this grim reunion had been filled with tears and screaming and anger and all the _ hurt _ Sebastian instilled in him all those years ago.

It’s nothing like that.

For so long all he had been able to do—all he could let himself do—was think about Sebastian and the scars he left, but the only thing on his mind now is Blaine.

“I-I can’t believe it’s really you,” the same disbelieving yet hopeful voice breaks the silence. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Kurt says, getting right to the point. “I have an appointment, so unless you want me to call the cops on you, you should leave.”

They both know his threat is empty. Not because Kurt wouldn’t call the cops, but because they are both very aware of the statute of limitations on vehicular manslaughter in the state of Ohio, and this reunion happened four years too late to have Sebastian brought to justice.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, too,” Sebastian says. “Maybe we can talk while we wait for them to show.”

Horror rolls through Kurt as he comes to a nauseating realization. He prays to god that his hunch isn’t right. “What time is your appointment?” he hisses through his teeth.

Sebastian has the audacity to mistake the question for an invitation and slides into the booth across from Kurt. “Five thirty. Yours?”

Kurt shuts his eyes tightly. “You have got to be _ fucking _ kidding me.” 

Christ, it’s like some sick and twisted version of an old video game—the final boss before you get to your happy ending. But Blaine’s worth the fight, no matter how many more scars he comes back with.

“You’re GladYouCame94?”

Sebastian’s jaw drops and Kurt hates that he has the nerve to even look hopeful at that revelation. “You’re the one who wants to buy that place from me—Heartstrings.”

“Heart_songs_,” Kurt corrects him. 

“This has got to be fate,” Sebastian says, reaching across the table and taking Kurt’s hand.

“I don’t believe in fate,” Kurt says coldly, snatching it right away. After a moment, he realizes he does. “Not for us,” he amends. “Not for you.”

The tension in the air dangles in silence like steel wires on a bridge about to snap and send everything crashing down.

“I’m sor—“

“Don’t.” Kurt starts. “You’re about nine years too late for that. Besides, that’s not what I’m here for.”

Sebastian’s face falls. “Right, the bar.”

“How did you even get it?”

“You know my dad... always wanted me to go into real estate law. He had to work really hard to make any trace of the accident go away, but he did,” he finally admits quietly, then shifts uncomfortably before clearing his throat to continue. “I saw someone selling a piece of Hamptons real estate on Craigslist for a little over three mil before taxes, which, believe me, is a steal.

“You mentioned you had an offer I couldn’t refuse… is it… do you want—“

“I could never be with someone like you ever again,” Kurt says with the type of calmness that comes from being so infuriated that no amount of tears or screaming could ever do it justice. “I just… I really need this deed. So, what I am willing to do for you is exactly what I’d do with any other stranger: offer to wire you a million dollars under the table—tax free. On top of that, I have about eighteen fake identities with social security numbers that you can split the money between if you make bank accounts for them. That’s eighteen accounts constantly gaining interest. You’ll make the three million back in no time.”

Sebastian’s eyes go wide. “Eighteen fake identifies? You’ve been busy, I see.”

Kurt’s lips make a flat line. “I had to learn to take care of myself when I didn’t have a dad to do it anymore…”

Dead silence falls across the table.

“Why?” Sebastian finally pries. “Why this deed?”

Kurt looks right into his eyes, wondering why the hell Sebastian thinks he’s entitled to any answer at all. What makes him think he can come back after all these years, remind Kurt of old wounds he had to heal himself, and demand such a personal answer as if he’s anything but a stranger.

He purses his lips, more than ready to leave before remembering that he can’t walk away from Sebastian without walking away from any chance he has with Blaine. Sebastian doesn’t deserve to hear Kurt say a damned thing, but Kurt sure as hell deserves to let Sebastian know how he hurt him.

“You hurt me so badly once…” Kurt finally says. “And now I’ve hurt somebody... somebody who didn’t deserve it, who I really, _ really _ care about. This deed isn’t just my only shot at forgiveness, but it’s the apology he deserves. I know firsthand what not getting closure can do to a person, and the only thing worse than not getting him back would be watching him become as bitter and jaded as I was and I can’t... I just _ can’t _ let that happen. So... Name your price.”

A beat of silence passes. “Just take it.” 

Of all the things Kurt expected to hear out of his ex-fiancé’s mouth, that was not at the top of his list. His face mangles in disgust. “No,” he says firmly. “I don’t want to owe you anything, Smythe.”

He slides the paper across the table to Kurt. “You won’t, it’s just... the one thing I want is the one thing you can’t give me.”

_ My forgiveness… _

Sebastian looks at Kurt with eyes that are begging him to correct him—something Kurt simply can't do. “You’re right about that.”

“I loved you, you know.”

“Clearly not enough.” _ Not as much as Blaine loved me. _

“Do... do you love him?”

“More than I’ve ever loved anybody.” He can see the pain of his words ripple across Sebastian’s face and adds, “I’m not _ trying _ to be hurtful, I promise. It’s just... someone I love very much recently taught me the importance of honesty.”

Kurt lets his words hang in the air for a few seconds before finally reaching out and taking the deed. Silently, he gets up from the table and walks out of the cafe.

* * *

Blaine trudges up to his front porch after yet another day of unfruitful job hunting. Losing Heartsongs had been difficult, but it was just a drop in the ocean compared to the pain of losing Chris.

It seemingly takes all his strength to drag the keys up to the lock, and hearing them jangle as he turns them only reminds him of his ex-husband’s tinkling laugh.

How could he have been so stupid? He isn’t even sure exactly how the events of his wedding night transpired, but he admittedly doesn’t have a great track record with alcohol, so he pieced the puzzle together himself, figuring it was the basic story. He’d had one too many and screwed up, let things go way too far with Vinny, his husband’s _ cousin _ for Christ’s sake.

He opens the door, wiping his feet on the mat before he comes in, expecting to find nothing out of place when he flicks on the light. What he finds instead is his now ex-husband, standing in his living room, a piece of paper in his hands.

He must be hallucinating. “Chris?” he asks in utter astonishment.

“Kurt...” he responds uncharacteristically timidly. Blaine’s eyebrows meet, showcasing his confusion. Kurt’s heart is beating right out of his chest, because Blaine is _ right _ there, right within his grasp and all he wants to do is hold him in his arms again. But he can’t... not until he knows the truth. “My name is Kurt Hummel,” he finishes.

Blaine stares him down like he’s not sure what to make of the situation, and Kurt doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t blame him if he calls the police, turns and runs, leaves him after he says what he’s about to.

“I...” the shorter man starts, but never finishes.

“You must have a million questions.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says slowly, nodding. “Like how the hell did you get in here?”

“I picked the lock.”

“You... you know how to pick a lock?” Blaine asks.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Clearly…” Blaine narrows his eyes with the suspicion he should have had since the moment they met. “Kurt?” he questions cautiously, not the littlest bit less confused.

Finally hearing his real name roll off of Blaine’s tongue sends a jolt of electricity through his chest. He’s known Blaine for six weeks and this is the first time he’s said it. It’s like music to his ears.

He swallows hard, knowing what he’s about to tell Blaine might turn him away from him forever, but also knowing it’s the right thing to do. He takes a bold step forward. “Like I said, my name is Kurt Hummel. For the past nine years Rachel Berry—you know her as Megan—and I have made a living conning unsuspecting men.”

Blaine bursts out into laughter, dropping his head as his entire body tilts forward. “What is this, some sort of joke?” 

His laughter slowly fades as he notes the look on—_ Kurt’s _ face. 

“Oh my god...” Blaine’s eyes go wide as he recalls the events from the last few weeks. “So... you and Megan—“

“Rachel—“

“Planned all of this?” he gestures between the two of them. 

Kurt’s heart is leaping up in his throat, pounding furiously. “Yes,” he admits. “That’s what we do…”

Blaine just stands there in stunned silence. “So... you played me? Tina was right, all along?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then, please, enlighten me, Chri—” Blaine stops himself in the middle of the other man’s alias suddenly, like he’s been stung by a wasp. “Kurt.”

He takes a deep breath. “Rachel and I have really been on our own since we were nineteen, and this initially started out as a way to pay bills, just survive...” He shakes his head. “But then... we just kept going. We were so fucked up from our pasts that we didn’t really carry any guilt over stealing from men who were so willing to cheat.” He meets Blaine’s eyes. “And then you came along and... I was never supposed to have feelings for you, Blaine. It-it all got _ so _ out of control and the line between what was real and what was blurred so much. An old mark found us, demanded his money back—money we didn’t have because an old flame of Rachel’s who posed as the IRS stole it. Finn, you know him as Vinny, said that if we didn’t figure something out he’d call the FBI on us and I didn’t want to go through with it because I was so afraid of losing you. I… I didn’t want you to make the same mistake Sebastian did...”

Blaine lowers his head shamefully, but it snaps right up when Kurt says, “And now I know you didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” 

Kurt takes a deep, steadying breath before telling the one truth that might cost him everything. “Rachel slipped something in your drink on our wedding night.” 

Blaine’s jaw drops and his eyes widen in realization. A few tense moments of silence pass before he‘s finally able to process and respond. “First of all, that clears a lot of things up for me. Secondly, you people need therapy—I think _ I’m _ going to need therapy after this. Finding out that your ex-husband drugged you is… kind of a lot.”

“No!” Kurt says frantically. “God, no, Blaine… If you know anything about me at all, know that I could _ never _ do something like that to you.”

“Do I?” Blaine asks, seemingly equal parts hurt and flabbergasted. “Because not even ten minutes ago I apparently didn’t even know your real name. Yet you want me to believe that you had nothing to do with this?”

“I swear on my mother’s _ grave _, I had no idea until after the divorce was finalized.” 

Blaine’s defensive demeanor breaks a little at that.

“I even tracked down the person who bought Heartsongs and they gave it back to me!” Kurt rushes forward, holding out a trembling hand with the Heartsongs deed in it.

Blaine stares down at it in awe, head reeling from the rollercoaster of emotions stirring inside him. 

“See?” 

He gently takes the paper, unsure if he should be thanking the man in front of him or kicking him out of his house. “Why did you come here, Kurt?”

“I had to make things right with you. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. You didn’t deserve this. Any of it. I’m so sorry.” Kurt blinks and tears roll right down his cheek against every effort to fight them off. “And if you never want to see me again, I understand, but... if-if you want me to stay... please,” he begs. “_ Please _, just... say anything.”

All he can do is watch as the love of his life stands in front of him, not meeting his gaze and remaining heartbreakingly quiet. Kurt thinks back to all the times he left Blaine confused and alone because he couldn’t figure his shit out. What a _ fucking _ waste. It’s quite a turn of events; Kurt finally wants to stay and it’s the first time Blaine doesn’t want him to.

Kurt nods, choking back a sob because he doesn’t fucking deserve to cry in front of Blaine like this, not when he was the one who screwed everything up.

There are only two other moments Kurt remembers being more painful than walking away from Blaine, and they both included burying his parents. However, knowing that Blaine got the explanation he didn’t for nine years helps to soften the blow. 

Kurt’s given Blaine everything he needs to move on, and he knows he will. He’ll find someone else—someone who’s just as honest as he is—and he’ll fall in love again, and he’ll get the happy ending he deserves. Kurt, on the other hand, realizes much too late that after what he had with Blaine, he could never be happy with anybody else.

He has no idea what the hell he’s going to do.

But for now, he heads to the door, doing his best to accept the fact that the man he loves more than anything in the world wants nothing to do with him, and rightfully so. 

He’s almost there when Blaine finally snaps out of his trance, breaking his firm silence.

“How much of it was real?” he asks, not looking up from the deed at first, then slowly turning his head to look curiously (and though it kills him to admit this, maybe even a little warily) at Kurt.

Kurt spins on his heels, mouth gaping open and not sure where to even begin with that question.

“You… kind of implied that some of it was real. How much..? That story about your dad and fiancé?”

Kurt winces. “As much as I wish it weren’t... that’s real.”

A glimmer of reiterated sympathy flashes across Blaine’s eyes. “Meg—Rachel being your sister?”

“Fake.” Kurt answers without hesitation.

“NYADA? Your love of performing?”

“Real.”

“Your car breaking down?”

“Fake.”

Blaine hesitates, like he’s afraid of the answer to the next question. Kurt wonders if Blaine finally feels the debilitating fear he’s been feeling since Kurt realized he loved him. 

“Wh-When…” Blaine swallows anxiously. “When you said you loved me?”

Kurt pauses, needing a moment to put into words exactly how _ real _ that was for him. 

“Real.” He finally breathes. “God, _ so _ real. The realest thing that’s ever happened to me. So real that it scared the shit out of me because nothing had been real for me in years. You have no idea what you mean to me, what you _ did _ for me, Blaine. I’ve spent almost an entire decade lying, but _ you _ turned me into an honest man, something I couldn’t even do for myself.”

Before Kurt can ramble any longer, Blaine rushes up to him, taking his face in with both hands, and kisses him passionately.

Kurt practically whimpers into Blaine’s open mouth, suddenly flooded with relief that makes him want to cry tears of joy and never, _ ever _ let go of the man in front of him. He never thought he would get this happy ending, but it seems like he just might—and with the one person he so desperately wants it with.

Blaine finally pulls away, leaving Kurt more than breathless, a little confused, and immensely grateful to be given a second chance he doesn’t feel he deserves. “You said real…” he says, as if answering Kurt’s unspoken words‍. “That's all I needed to hear.”

Kurt frantically grabs onto the font of Blaine’s shirt and pulls them together again. 

Not too long ago, Kurt thought his love for Blaine was nothing more than another opportunity to get hurt, and that still might be true. If they are together for the rest of their lives, it will still be true. Being with Blaine _ is _ endless possibilities, but for so long, all Kurt could focus on were the scary ones.

Now, all he can see are the doors this opens up for endless movie nights together, rainy days spent cuddled up on the couch, and all the mundane things Kurt used to turn his nose up at but now craves more than anything in the world.

In the hundreds of futures Kurt had envisioned, he never saw something like this for himself, had never seen the end to a world where love didn’t exist, never saw the domesticity and familiarity and love that Blaine could provide for him (and he could provide Blaine) as part of his life. Kurt has never really thought beyond where the next few weeks of a con would take him, so he never thought what it would be like when he finally got his elusive happy ending. 

Now that he’s living it—_ really _ living it—it almost feels like the best kind of dream that Kurt desperately hopes he never has to wake up from.

But it _ is _real. 

_ Blaine _ is real, and here and true and _ honest _, and well... It made Kurt Hummel, liar and conman extraordinaire, an honest man as well.


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO BOI SORRY THIS IS SO LATE??? Thanksgiving break was wild and then the week back at school was wilder but I am here and here is the epilogue!
> 
> As always, the biggest thanks to my amazing Beta Adri. This story would not be what it is without her!
> 
> Ahh, I'm so sad this story is ending but I had a blast writing it and I hope you all had a blast reading it! Thank you to everyone who read this :) 
> 
> Happy Holidays!

It’s Kurt’s idea for them to be just friends for a while. Blaine agrees—they need to get to know each other again, rebuild boundaries and trust.

That superb idea lasts an entire two days.

All it takes is one night at Heartsongs after Kurt’s finished singing Blackbird by the Beatles, and Blaine’s dragging him to the deserted bathroom, pinning him against the stall and furiously kissing him. 

“It’s been two days!” Kurt laughs against his lips, but doesn’t protest. 

“I know,” Blaine hums. “I think I deserve an award for showing restraint for this long.”

“What are we going to tell Tina?”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles against Kurt’s neck. “We’ll figure something out.”

“What about—“

“Do you really want to have this conversation right now or do you want to keep making out?”

“... God, you’re right.”

“Of course I am, now shut up and kiss me.”

* * *

They don’t get married again right away either, but after some insisting on Blaine’s part, they do move to the city together so Kurt can reapply to NYADA.

“What about Heartsongs?” Kurt had asked.

“I know a girl with a business degree from Brown and an ex-stripper with a bartending license who would love to have a reason to stay in his hometown. They can probably make the most out of it.”

Kurt had fought Blaine on it a bit more, insisting that he couldn’t ask Blaine to give up his dream for him. To that, Blaine had responded that Kurt was his dream. Really, though, Kurt should know better than anyone how convincing Blaine can be.

So that’s the story of how they end up Brooklyn, in their little shoebox apartment where they get everything Kurt had dreamt of the first time Blaine proposed. Dreams that sure as hell didn’t include the dirty money Kurt got out of conning Blaine, though, he’s sure the many charities they split it amongst greatly appreciated it.

Every day after school and working at a nearby coffee shop, Kurt is welcomed by Blaine’s secure arms that he could just pass out in, which, most of the time he does. It’s not very often, but they fight over things that don’t matter (like when Blaine changed the bathroom wallpaper to an absolutely atrocious pea green) and Kurt would say they fight over things that do matter, but the truth is... nothing really matters more than the way he feels about Blaine.

Based on the glares he gets from their neighbors the morning after one of their few and far between fights, he’s also getting the make-up sex that’s making them obscenely jealous.

After about a year and a half, Blaine decides to get back on the stage and ends up getting a role in a new off-broadway musical based off the Scott Pilgrim books. For a fleeting moment, Kurt’s mind flickers with wonder about Rachel’s whereabouts, but thoughts of her are pushed aside as soon as he sees Blaine take center stage and absolutely kill the role.

Kurt knows now that he’s loved Blaine from the moment they met, but he comes to a realization as he watches him dance and sing on stage during opening night after six arduous months of rehearsals. It’s not startling the way it was the first time, it just washes warmly over him like a wave on a beach during a hot summer day. 

He wants to marry Blaine—again. 

For good, this time. He’s not panicked like he was before, in fact, he’s never been so calm and so certain about anything before because he trusts Blaine. He trusts himself. He loves everything about their relationship and wants to lock it in forever. If this is how Blaine felt when he proposed, Kurt completely understands now why he never had a doubt in his mind.

During one of Blaine’s performances, Kurt shoots him a quick text explaining that he got a call from their landlord about a plumbing problem and that’s why he’ll be gone for the second act (he practically has it memorized, as this is his sixth time seeing it). After they had sorted things out, Kurt promised to never let another lie escape his mouth so long as he and Blaine were together, but he figures this one particular circumstance calls for an exception.

Blaine doesn’t find the message until after the show is over and sends a quick response, letting Kurt know he’s on his way. Thirty minutes later, he’s back at their apartment.

“Kurt, honey, is everything alright?” Blaine asks as he cracks the door to their apartment open.

He’s met with the dim, warm glow of candles everywhere and Kurt standing in the middle of the living room.

“Kurt?”

Kurt just smiles and extends his hand for Blaine to come closer. He does, and Kurt starts his speech.

“Blaine,” he says as if answering his boyfriend’s question, hoping the dim light of the candles are enough to show the smile on his face. “There were times when I was certain I would die old and alone, and for a very long time I had accepted that. I accepted that until I realized I could have you. There are so many things I never told you, when we... uh... when we first started  _ dating _ .” Blaine lets out a chuckle at that. “There were a lot of things I didn’t tell you because I was afraid of what they meant. Of what you meant to me. But Blaine... I’m not afraid anymore. Being with you has revived courage in me I haven’t had for so long.

“We kind of rushed into things the first time around, and… I don’t regret it—any of it, because whatever path we took eventually brought us together. But I want to do things right this time.” 

Kurt takes in a deep breath and lowers himself down onto one knee, absolutely adoring the way the warm glow of the ambient city lights mixing with the fire of the candles illuminates Blaine’s watery smile.

“And I am ridiculously lucky that you stuck around and got to know  _ me _ , Kurt Hummel, and not the facade I so foolishly tried to sell you. So... Blaine Anderson, will you marry me?”

Kurt doesn’t get a verbal response, but he  _ does _ get practically tackled by Blaine, which sends them both crashing to the floor in a fit of alternating laughter and kisses. Based on that and the way they spend the entire night tangled up in one another, though, Kurt safely assumes it’s a “yes”.

* * *

Kurt barges into the guestroom that’s currently serving as Blaine’s dressing room, effectively scaring the daylights out of the shorter man. 

“Christ, Kurt! You scared me.“ Blaine furrows his eyebrows. “What are you doing in here? The last time we got married you were pretty vocal about your belief that this very situation was terrible luck.“

“What if she doesn’t come?“ is what Kurt responds with, nervously rolling the seams of his pants between his fingers. “Shit. What if she  _ does _ come? I know you said we had been through too much to throw it all away but… Was inviting her mistake? Do you—“

Blaine cut him off in the best way possible, by pressing his lips against Kurt’s like a precursor for what’s to come immediately after their vows later that afternoon. “Kurt, sweetheart, she’ll be here,” he says with a reassuring caress of his hair. “And if she’s not, it won’t be the end of the world. Either way, if you need me, I’ll be here so we can fix this together.”

Kurt nods, finally reassured by Blaine’s comforting grip on his hand. “Yeah,“ he breathes, “yeah…“

“Come on, let’s go downstairs and  _ finally  _ get married.“ Blaine teases. 

Kurt playfully rolls his eyes. “Don’t start, or I’ll make you wait longer than the two years it took to plan this thing.”

Blaine heads down the stairs and Kurt follows his lead until they reach the front door. “Are you ready?“

Kurt beams at him. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” he says honestly. He reaches out and gently swings the door open to reveal the familiar back side of long brown hair and a petite frame, a large pair of hands gripping her shoulders reassuringly.

“I shouldn’t have come. He still hates me, he doesn’t want anything to do with me.“

Fin doesn’t respond to her, just looks up with wide eyes at Kurt and quickly spins her around to face him. Rachel looks mostly the same, but her hair is thicker, longer, and has highlights now (of course, the completely wrong shade. She should have gone with a warmer tone). She’s grown out her bangs in the four years— _ god, four years… has it really been that long? _ —that Kurt hasn’t seen her and she’s… His eyes grow wider than he thought possible as they roam down her torso and are met with her full, round stomach.

“Oh, my God, you’re pregnant,” he says, wondering if saying the words out loud will help him believe them.

“And you’re getting married,” she responds. “For real this time.”

Blaine pats Finn’s shoulder. “Let’s give them a moment,” he says, and they do just that, heading to the outdoor altar set up.

“When—when are you due?”

“Next month.”

Silence fills the air between the two (and a half) of them, neither quite knowing what to say next. 

Finally, Rachel breaks it. “Kurt, I’m so sorry.”

His eyes shine with tears as he pulls her into a hug. 

Rachel Berry is far from perfect. Yes, she had screwed up big-time with what she’d done to him Blaine, but she’s also the pair of arms that held him when he got that awful phone call about his dad, the shoulder he cried on at his funeral when they lowered Burt in the ground next to Elizabeth. And for nine years, she had been the only person Kurt could trust. He can’t just throw that all away, especially because if it weren’t for her ludicrous plot to try and keep them together, he would have never met the man he’s going to marry in about ten minutes.

“I know. I am, too. We both did things—said things—we regret… But there’s over a decade of love between us and… You’re still one of my best friends.“ She sobs into his shoulder for a few more moments before he pulls away and actually smiles at her. “Come on, I can’t get married without my maid of honor to walk me down the aisle.“

“Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones,” Rachel blubbers. “But I can't stop crying right now. Did I tell you it’s a girl? We wanted to name her Elizabeth, if that’s alright with you.”

An hour ago, Kurt didn’t think he would be crying before he even got the chance to see his groom waiting for him at the end of the aisle, but he also didn’t think he would be currently standing with his estranged best friend as they cried into each other’s arms.

“That’s more than alright with me,” he sniffs.

She heaves a few more breaths (still dramatic as ever, even on the verge of being a new mother) before wiping at her eyes and squaring Kurt’s shoulders with a teary smile. “Let’s go get you married.”

He nods and the pair exit towards the outdoor venue filled with new friends and old family who didn’t get to make the first wedding due to the short notice (which was really just Cooper).

Kurt’s struck a little breathless when he sees Blaine waiting for him, beaming up at him at the altar. He can’t help but think that Blaine looks even more beautiful the second time around.

* * *

“Kurt Hummel-Anderson.”

Kurt walks on to the stage where all those with a callback are supposed to go when the audition panel calls them.

“Just like you,” the head of the panel starts. “Everyone else vying for this role made it past the dance and music calls. We need strong singers and dancers for this production, which you have clearly proven yourself to be. So… What sets you apart from the rest Mr. Hummel? What’s your story?”

Kurt pauses for a moment, getting his thoughts in order. “Well, if I can count on you to not call the authorities,” he finally says with a sheepish grin, hoping for at least a chuckle but only getting stark silence in response. He gulps, takes a steadying breath, and begins. “Okay… I spent about nine years of my life running long cons with my best friend since high school Rachel Berry—yes  _ the _ Rachel Berry who was once engaged to notorious musical theatre flop Jesse St. James and wrote the tell all book about what he was like in high school. We had a falling out, but made up about a few years later. But I’m getting ahead of myself… before all  _ that _ happened, I met the love of my life, Blaine Anderson and tried to con him. I fell in love with him, but was too afraid to admit that to anybody, even myself. It took a while, but I finally figured my feelings out, married him— _ twice _ , re-auditioned for NYADA, graduated at the top of my class, and… well, that about brings us up to date.”

Kurt is certain that if someone had a pin and dropped it on the other side of the auditorium, he would have been able to hear it easily.

At least until the head of the panel bursts out in uproarious laughter and heartfelt applause, the rest of the panel following suit not a second after.

He shakes his head, a big smile on his face. “Anyone who can put on an impromptu monologue like that has  _ got _ to have some acting chops.” Kurt opens his mouth to correct him, but is stunned into staying silent when he continues with, “You got the part.”

Kurt’s jaw drops. “I… I did?”

His head grows dizzy from disbelief. _I got the part… I got the part!_ _Oh my god, I can’t wait to tell Blaine._

“Congratulations, Mr. Hummel. You’re the newest Mark Cohen.”

* * *

Kurt rushes out of the auditorium and jumps straight into Blaine’s arms. “I got the part, B! I got it!” He shouts ecstatically, still unable to process that he just landed his first Broadway role.

Blaine squeezes his husband tighter and spins him around, letting out a joyous laugh. “I knew you would!” He draws back and looks fondly at his husband. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Good,” Kurt smiles, then adds, “I want you to be,” before bringing their lips together. Even after all this time together, every kiss was as exhilarating as that first one on the beach outside of Heartsongs.

Finding his way back to Blaine—back to love—had been anything but easy. When he was recounting their story to the audition panel, Kurt had realized how utterly ridiculous, complicated, and heartbreaking their journey had been.

But Kurt has to admit that the reward of following his passion and getting to come home to the love of his life every single day was plenty worth the struggle.

Kurt wouldn’t have had it any other way, if he’s being perfectly honest. Which, since meeting Blaine, he hasn’t been able to be anything but.


End file.
